


Where we once walked

by ViolentMetaphors



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-06-29 20:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 49,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15736761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolentMetaphors/pseuds/ViolentMetaphors
Summary: Niijima definitely knew more than she let on when she requested the Phantom Thieves to target Kaneshiro, and the blackmail was only the start of their troubles. At least they got a new ally in a certain Goro Akechi - as soon as they could get him away from the mafia, that is.Some sort of role reversal of Goro and Makoto.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual spoilers ahoy!
> 
> So my first foray into (posting) fanfiction for God knows how many years is a story based on an old Kinkmeme prompt. I can't say I expected that. The gist of the prompt was:  
> "I want to see an AU where Goro and Makoto switch places in a sense."  
> There was more, but I'm not sure I followed it close enough to classify it as a proper fill. I decided to go ahead anyway because some of the ideas had been kicking around in my head for a while, and the prompt gave me a reason to explore them.  
> Updating will probably be slow, due to chapter length, the general state of my writing and the frankly ridiculous amount of time I spend proofreading (some day I might get a beta, but that'd require actual human interaction). Still, I'd like to see this finished eventually, so...

Akira let his phone rest in his hand, weighing his options. He wanted nothing more than to chuck the piece of technology out through the window of the student council room, so that it would take the much too loud voice of Ryuji with it and hopefully crush it against the ground below. Unfortunately, that wouldn't do anything about the recording that had been presented to him, nor the secrets that had already been spilled.

“Won't you take me to your friends, Kurusu-kun?” Makoto Niijima asked him sweetly, knowing very well he couldn't refuse.

* * *

There was something about Niijima that made Akira feel uneasy. The feeling was hard to explain, and had bothered him for a while. Before the incident with Kamoshida, he had only spoken to her once. She had approached him on his second day, asked him how he was doing and assured him that she'd be there for him just as much she was for any other student. It had left a somewhat impersonal but nevertheless sincere impression on Akira, and he had to admit that during those rough first days, before he settled into the whole Phantom Thieves-thing and his role as the leader of a band of supernatural high school rebels, it had been a much appreciated respite from the otherwise hostile atmosphere of Shujin Academy. He hadn't seen much of her after that. But since she a year older than him, part of the school council and a top student, he presumed she was busy with more important matters. And seeing how he quickly made new friends even in this place, he found no reason to think much of it.

Everything changed after Kamoshida. Ever since the calling card and the confession that followed a few days later, she had been on their trail nonstop. Sometimes confronting them directly with questions about the Phantom Thieves, sometimes employing more subtle (though not by much) stratagems. She'd innocently stop him to chat, chose the spot right next to him to do some light reading in the library, or outright follow him through the city. She'd deny it once confronted, of course, but Akira knew better and the upside down magazine was a dead giveaway. The Phantom Thieves exercised some additional caution once they moved on to their next target, and moved their hideout away from Shujin, expecting her to lay off them eventually.

Unfortunately, she only seemed to grow more fixated on them after the news of Madarame's calling card leaked, and his televised confession escalated it further. Akira, grimly accepting that she wasn't a problem that would go away on its own, had grown a lot more careful around the president. Her intentions were unclear, simply because she never outright acted against them while making it obvious that she didn't believe their excuses in the slightest.

Until today, that is – and Akira had to admit that he'd been shocked when she revealed the material she claimed was proof of their alternate identities. She had pictures of them together, but far more damning was the recording in which Ryuji loudly talked about their duties as _Phantom Thieves_. It was enough that Akira took her unspoken threat seriously, and brought her along to their new hideout at her request.

”What's _she_ doin' here?” Ryuji exclaimed, the friendly banter coming to an abrupt end as soon as they noticed that Akira hadn't arrived alone. Even Yusuke, who had only heard of her through the others, quickly adapted a displeased if courteous expression. Niijima paid their hostility no heed, and only showed them the same evidence that she had already shown Akira.

Their anger quickly turned into alarm, and though they did their best to hide it there was no doubt who was in control of the situation.

”I'm not going to turn you in right away,” Niijima said, and her tentative assurance sounded more like pity. Nevertheless, she had Akira's undivided attention: any scenario which didn't end in their arrest was one he was willing to consider. ”You could be a valuable asset, after all. But I'm wary of the justice behind it, and if you were to prove yourselves irresponsible with this power, I fear I may have no choice.”

”Excuse you, we're not some troupe of circus monkeys you can order around,” Ryuji protested, not taking well to having their methods questioned. While the Phantoms weren't exactly famous, Akira had yet to hear anyone around the school speak of them as harshly as Niijima did.

”You have no right to speak of justice after how you dealt with Kamoshida,” Ann exclaimed, fire awakening in her eyes. ”What's so _just_ in allowing a creep like him free reign? You knew about everything the whole time, didn't you!”

Niijima looked like she wanted to protest. But she swallowed her retorts, and it was with surprising humility that she finally admitted: ”Your... determination to take action against Kamoshida is what convinced me to give you a chance. I'm not being unreasonable. If you're even half as just as you claim to be, you won't have any problems with my request.”

”And what is this request?” Yusuke asked curtly.

”Use your talents and prove your justice to me,” the president replied.

* * *

 As it turned out, she wanted them to take down a target of her choice. It didn't take the Phantom Thieves long to understand that they had no choice but to accept her deal, and so Akira, Ryuji and Ann (with Morgana hidden away in his bag, naturally) arrived at the rooftop where the President was already waiting for them, as she had promised, with more details on her so far very vague request.

A mafia boss. Supposedly, he was responsible for the recent phishing scams that had targeted students in particular, and Niijima's disgust was evident as she recounted how this mafia group would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. They would lure the students in with promises of a lucrative “part-time job”, then blackmail and threaten them to get what they really wanted. Akira had to admit that it wasn't a bad target if even half the things she said were true.

She couldn't give them a name, supposedly because she didn't know it herself. But even through the stoic front she presented to them, Akira thought that he could discern a little of that same impersonal yet passionate concern that she had showed him in those early days. This wasn't just a test. Niijima must have heard the same rumors as them, the ones that had circulated around the school causing anxiety among the students, and Akira couldn't say he didn't understand where she was coming from.

”That's an awful lot of responsibility to put on a few students,” he noted when Niijima explained how the police had been powerless to stop the gang. The president smiled, looking amused.

”But you're not just students, are you?” she said pointedly, before conflicted insecurity slipped through her so far authoritative front. ”I... may not want to admit it, but I'm a little jealous.” She ignored their surprised looks and continued. ”As the president of the student council, the headmaster has asked me to make sure that our students feel safe. And yet, I wield very little effective power here, and nothing outside the school. How am I supposed to achieve that? Believe me, if I could, I would deal with this matter in my own way. But I can't, and so I'm ready to give you a chance.

”Do you at least have any leads we could follow? Any at all?” Ann asked, and her resentment had grown less sharp. While it was clear that she still wasn't convinced about her lack of action towards Kamoshida, she was willing to put it aside for the sake of the mission. ”There was that student board, the one you put up, has anybody said anything?”

”I'm sorry, that information is confidential. You'll have to investigate,” Niijima replied, not sounding apologetic at all. She continued, her voice a little harder and leaving no room for objections or negotiations: ”See it as a part of my test. True justice will not back off because things are not laid out neatly before you. You have two weeks. The students have had to suffer this for long enough already.”

* * *

Two weeks was not a lot of time, and with the deadline looming unnervingly close they wasted no time getting to work. In two days, they had been able to find a student they could interrogate, and not only could they determine that the shady business in question was drug smuggling, but also that the students seemed to get recruited on Central Street. So far, so good.

But the next leg of their investigation yielded no further clues. Before they became too disheartened, Akira remembered that journalist they had run into during their investigation of Madarame, and the move was exactly what they needed. In exchange for some insider information on the Phantom Thieves (a responsibility which he promptly ”delegated” to Mishima), they finally had a name: Junya Kaneshiro.

Kaneshiro was indeed the leader of the mafia group in question, and one that the police had struggled to apprehend for quite a while. While they recognized that the stakes were completely different from anything they had faced before, they also realized that they might be looking at a significant breakthrough in their popularity, should they manage to do this. Something they _had_ to succeed in anyway, because otherwise they would be the ones with a future behind the bars rather than Kaneshiro. With renewed spirits, they returned to the investigation.

Half a week had passed when they worked out the code words ( _of course_ it was a bank). Their joy was short lived, however: infiltrating the Palace directly proved impossible as they could find no way to enter the actual building where the Treasure was stored. It was floating high above Shibuya, beyond their reach, and they decided to return to Central Street in an attempt to look for _anything_ that could get them further. The only silver lining was the sight of the human ATMs that helplessly tumbled around the area that spurred them to once again abandon the possibility of failure.

But after almost a day of investigating Kaneshiro in Shibuya with next to no results to show for it, Akira was getting rather tired. In a last-ditch effort they split up, Ryuji and Yusuke looking through the underground areas while Akira and Ann (and Morgana) scoured the main street, to no avail.

They had already agreed to meet up with the others when Ann mentioned that she felt uncomfortable. Like they were being followed. After the incident with Yusuke, Akira had learned to take her intuition seriously, and considering that they had been attempting to track someone with ties to a mafia, they couldn't be too careful.

Akira's gaze swept over the crowd, only to come to an abrupt stop at a familiar sight. They had passed by this place about fifteen minutes ago, where Akira had accidentally (and somewhat awkwardly) locked gazes with a boy on the other side of the street. Like proper strangers they had turned away as soon as they realized what had happened, and Akira had gone on his way without thinking much of it.

The event had been unremarkable, only one of a thousand awkward incidents that must happen every day in a place as busy as this, too insignificant to remember - but now their eyes met a second time. Because there, in the same spot he had been standing half an hour ago was the same boy, and he was once again looking at them. And this time, he didn't look away.

They weren't being followed, at least he didn't think so, but they had definitely been watched. Akira figured it was only fair he observed him back.

He seemed perfectly ordinary, though the plain, gray briefcase by his side was a little odd. He was around their age, presumably a high-school student from some other school though Akira didn't recognize the uniform. The pale pea coat wasn't part of any standard he knew of, but complemented the rest of his outfit very nicely, and made him look a little more well-dressed than most of his peers that passed through. Admittedly, Akira doubted he needed it to get attention; he was pretty enough as it was with the slight feminine quality to his features and the brown, shoulder length hair.

Then there were those deep, dark eyes that followed their every move. The eye contact, though brief on a cosmic scale, had lasted too long to be coincidental. Akira refused to waver, and stubbornly watched him back in something that more and more resembled a puerile staring contest, pondering what the purpose of the setup could possibly be. Had he been watching them for long? Why? They didn't know each other, and Akira couldn't recall ever seeing him, much less properly meeting him, before. Their only encounter had been today, in which case...

"Akira? Are we going? Ryuji and Yusuke are waiting."

He made up his mind. Before he had time to think more about it, he turned around and grabbed Ann's wrist, before dragging her across the street. Reluctantly, she followed. The boy's lips curled into the hint of a smile as he watched them approach.

"Akira, what are we-?!"

"You," Akira said, stopping in front of the student. Ann looked at both of them in confusion, and while she opened her mouth no words came out.

"Good day," the other said pleasantly, wearing a just as pleasant smile. It was undeniable fact that he had been the one who to initiate the contact; hell, he had been caught in the act spying on them, and yet he patiently awaited a response, as though he was speaking to them as a courtesy and nothing more.

"What do you know about Kaneshiro?" Akira asked, and Ann inhaled sharply beside him, not expecting the blunt line of questioning. An astonished expression flashed over the student's face for the fraction of a second, before he chuckled lightly.

"Ah, you're a really interesting guy," he said, taking his time scrutinizing them a little more, then shook his head disapprovingly. "You know enough to have a name... but not enough to realize that you're in way. Over. Your head."

For a moment, his voice entered a register that wasn't outright threatening, but obviously served the same purpose. He wanted them to back off, which only made Akira surer that he was on the right trail. He must have heard them ask around. He was exactly the person they needed to get somewhere after a whole afternoon of failures.

A hint of Joker made it through his everyday mask, and he leaned closer in.

"I hear he pays decently," he replied in a low voice. The chatter from the crowds on the streets would have shielded them from attention even if he had spoken louder, but if the student wanted to be theatrical, Akira was more than willing to play the game. "I don't suppose you'd know anything about that?"

Gone was the smile, replaced with a blank, unreadable expression. And then their potential informant laughed, but this time the sound was cold, ridiculing even.

"Go home," the student scoffed. "While you still have one."

"Are you in trouble?" Ann anxiously blurted out. She had so far followed the back and forth with quiet, if a little confused, interest, but she too had read between the lines. The sudden, genuine worry in her voice was enough to throw the student off balance for a second before he recomposed himself. He glared at them, but it was about as effective as a small pet puffing up in an effort to look intimidating. If anything, he had exposed the vulnerability that necessitated the bluff, and Ann gasped.

"You're a highschooler too, aren't you? We've talked with others, you know – are you being blackmailed too? Do you need help? Is that why you don't want us to get involved?"

He almost physically swayed beneath the flurry of concern, and Akira had to admit that the thought of weaponizing kindness of all things never had occurred to him. Not that it was Ann's intention; she was much too sweet to consider something like that.

"I'm in no more trouble than someone like me would be expected to be," her target finally replied, smiling once again but nevertheless sounding just a little bitter. "I'm more worried about you two. Either you are after the money despite knowing the risks, which makes you stupid. Or you're _not_ after the money... which means you're fucking idiots. Did he get a friend of yours? If so, there's nothing you can do without hurting them – and yourselves – more. The only thing you can do is to limit the damage, and _not get involved_."

"We need to find Kaneshiro," Akira said calmly at the same time that Ann mumbled "I don't believe you."

It was clear which response the boy felt more comfortable facing.

"Why? What could you possibly gain by meeting up with him?"

 _Well, we might get access to his Palace for one, rather than being stuck on the ground were we can't do anything at all to help the students he has ensnared – which seems to include you as well_. In a way, Akira could understand his reasoning. Despite his aloof manner, the boy seemed adamant that they didn't risk their lives for no reason. But he couldn't exactly tell him that they were the Phantom Thieves that were slowly making a name for themselves, and who had supernatural powers to keep them safe where others were vulnerable.

Before he could think of an answer, both his and Ann's phones buzzed almost simultaneously.

"It's Ryuji," Ann told him, checking it out. "He's wondering why we're late."

"You'd better go," their useless informant told them, the amiable front back in place, and he nodded towards the briefcase at his side. "I have an _appointment_ to keep, I'm sure you understand."

At least he acknowledged that they all knew what was going on, and Akira wondered exactly what it would take to get him to open up to them. They had come so tantalizingly close to a breakthrough, but the wall of silence wouldn't budge just from poking it.

"Will you be alright?" Ann asked, but the boy just smiled.

"Don't keep your friend waiting, now."

"It was nice to meet to you." Akira suddenly reached out his hand, and the student looked at him with suspicion. "I'm Akira Kurusu."

For a moment, Akira was sure that he'd ignore the obvious invitation; there was no way he could miss it. Thus he was actually a little surprised, but still pleased, when the other nodded, even though he didn't return the gesture.

"Akechi."

"Akechi...?" Akira left the implied question hanging, waiting for him to fill in the blank. Akechi smiled in the pleasant way that Akira already, despite the brevity of their acquaintance, recognized to be a trademark of his. For what reason, Akira didn't know yet. It definitely wasn't because he was happy.

"Just Akechi."

* * *

 They encountered Ryuji and Yusuke outside the station building after Ryuji tired of waiting for them. While he was initially excited to hear that they had found some kind of lead, he was as frustrated as Akira with the outcome.

"Man, why don't people ever _want_ to be saved?" he asked, exasperated, and Yusuke hummed in response.

"He might be reluctant to admit that he needs help. And even if he did, to an outsider we can't appear to have much to offer in the way of aid."

"Yeah, it's not like we can tell him we're Phantom Thieves," Ann said, echoing Akira's thoughts from earlier. She bit her lip, looking miserable.

"We can't give up now," Morgana declared. He dug his way out of the bag and gracefully leaped over Akira's shoulder, landing on the ground in the middle of the group. "What little this Akechi told us about doing his _job_ doesn't sound good at all, yet he stays. Do you think it's because of Kaneshiro?"

"Absolutely," Ann said. Determination took hold of her once more. "And who knows how many others. We need to act. We can't allow an adult to exploit students like this.“

“We still don't know exactly how he blackmails them, but it can't be good,” Yusuke agreed.

In the end, there wasn't much they could do. All of them were getting tired, so going into the Palace would have to wait. Instead, they agreed to meet up next day after school. If they couldn't find a more willing informant (unlikely, Akira's less optimistic side helpfully offered), or convince Akechi to spill his secrets (even less likely), they would have to figure out something else, and he was painfully short on ideas.

* * *

 Next day's search was no more successful than the first one. So with clenched teeth they decided to cut their losses and head to the Metaverse instead. They had a deadline to meet, and the days seemed ridiculously short when under the threat of getting arrested.

That was about the extent to which they were able to follow the plan. Then things went a little off track.

"Alright! Let's expand the radius today; after all, the distortion technically covers all of Shibuya-"

"...Ah."

Morgana's determined briefing was cut off by a soft voice that none of them recognized, and the five of them turned around in alarm in almost synchronized movements. For a moment, Akira feared that they had pulled some random passer-by in with them, and wondered just how they were supposed to explain the situation. Their masks would protect them from real world consequences (or so he hoped), but what if that person attempted to reveal the existence of the Metaverse...

Then he noticed exactly _whom_ they had pulled in, and instead wondered whether the universe was trying to help them or just play tricks on them.

In Akechi's defense, he recovered almost instantly from the initial shock. Or possibly he only pretended to, because while Akira figured that he must have fairly sturdy nerves to deal with Kaneshiro without breaking down, no one was transported to a different world without questioning it at least a bit. With the briefcase in his hand and an acquiescent, almost long-suffering expression, he looked like he was there on any regular business.

Yes, Akira called bullshit on that indifference.

"Who are you?" Yusuke asked sharply, but Akechi remained unfazed.

"... You keep finding ways to surprise me, Kurusu-kun," he said. Akira heard shocked exclaims from the others, but Akechi ignored them and continued, still pleasant as ever and as though they weren't talking in a foreign world that he until today had never even set foot in. "I was simply going to tell you off a second time, since you're so terrible at listening, but this... You seem to have access to resources I didn't account for."

So Akechi had already approached them in the real world. How on earth had they not noticed? They were Phantom Thieves, masters of stealth, now caught unawares by some random high school student-turned-smuggler. Admittedly they were highschoolers as well, but that was irrelevant. They should have been better, or at least paid more attention, and now they were basically reduced to praying that Akechi could be swayed to their side, otherwise they might have a completely different set of troubles to deal with on top of Niijima. They probably had options for stopping him somehow, but they didn't appear entirely moral enough to consider seriously.

“We have absolutely no idea what you're talking about,” Ryuji said nonchalantly, only to be ignored back just as nonchalantly.

"Then you have to be the girl who was with him," Akechi said, giving Ann a courteous nod before turning to Ryuji and Yusuke. "I'm afraid I have no idea who you two are. The same goes for..." He frowned and squinted at Morgana. "...the cat?"

"I'm not a cat!" Morgana predictably hissed. Akechi flinched.

"Alright, who _is_ this guy?" Ryuji growled.

"I'm Akechi," Akechi helpfully introduced himself, with a dazzling smile that could have made celebrities jealous, though his gaze continued to dart suspiciously in Morgana's direction, and the offended not-cat glared back.

" _Just_ Akechi," Akira added cheekily. There was hardly any point in denying it anymore. Akechi wasn't stupid enough to be convinced that he was mistaken. At his level of conviction, he'd have pursued them even if he had been objectively wrong.

Besides, a vague idea resembling a plan was starting to take form...

Akechi chuckled.

"Allow me one more deduction, Kurusu-kun. Those are some... very interesting clothes. Why, I'd almost say you look like... phantom thieves?"

“What, you wanna be the detective catchin' them or what?” Ryuji asked gruffly. Even as he seemed genuinely annoyed by Akechi, Akira could tell that he was worried as well, and with good reason. Just because Akechi was a victim in the bigger picture, it didn't mean he couldn't have his own (misguided) agenda. With a snort, Ryuji added: “Besides, aren't you an errand boy for Kaneshiro? It's not like a _drug smuggler_ like yourself could just show up at the police station.”

Akechi's amiable exterior faltered just enough to reveal something akin to resentment.

“I'm not wrong, though. Are you trying to change Kaneshiro's heart? Is that why you've been hanging around in places you shouldn't be?”

“Yes,” Akira cut in before anyone else could deny the statement. “Want to come along?”

Morgana ceased his glaring to shot him a questioning look, as did Ann, while Ryuji let out a surprised noise. Yusuke was the only one who didn't seem to question his course of action, though he didn't exactly look keen on the idea.

Akechi was guarded, but also visibly startled by the unexpected offer.

“Why?”

It was a risk. They knew significantly less about Akechi than they had known about Yusuke when he had joined them, even though the similarities were there. Akira pondered whether making him an accomplice could somehow buy them his silence (surely Akechi, given his position, was no stranger to _omertá_ ), but there was a more practical reason, one that would solve at least one of their other problems.

“We need to get somewhere, and we can't get there on our own,” Akira explained. Beside him, Morgana understood what he was getting at and brightened. He jumped into the air and turned towards Kaneshiro's bank, then back to Akechi with an excited expression.

“Ooh, I see! Yeah, that could work!” Taking a moment to collect himself, he then spoke to Akechi in the same educating tone he reserved for all things Metaverse. “This place runs on cognition. Whatever the ruler thinks of the world becomes true here. That's why everything's all distorted.”

“And what's that got to do with me?” Akechi asked.

“This is Kaneshiro's world. We can't reach him, or his hideout, because in his mind he's untouchable. He doesn't even know we're after him. But you, you're probably a customer at his bank-”

“I'm sorry?” Akechi interrupted, and there was a hint of offense in his tone.

“Kaneshiro, as repugnant as it may be, views Shibuya as his personal bank,” Yusuke explained. “And those who are indebted to him are his customers.”

He indicated the warped version of Central Street that lay before them and all the human ATMs helplessly stumbling around. “Since you're one of them, you should be allowed entrance. After all, he can't profit from you if he locks you out.”

Akechi took in the sight for a moment. Then he laughed, but the sound was harsh, and Akira didn't miss the way he clenched his fist. Despite the way he presented himself he did believe them, presumably because he had enough experience dealing with the real thing to know that they weren't deceiving him. “This is absolutely ridiculous.”

“It's terrible,” Ann said softly.

Akechi ignored her.

“And what are you going to do then? Burn it down?”

“What sorta fucked up idea is that?” Ryuji exclaimed.

“We're going to steal his heart,” Morgana said, eliciting a snort from Akechi. The cat thief mustn't have realized how cliché, maybe patronizing even, he sounded when he talked to the uninitiated the same way he did to his team. But to his defense, he wasn't done yet and didn't mind Akechi's less than favorable reaction. “Inside his world there's a treasure somewhere, a manifestation of his distorted desires – in this case, his ruthless greed that enables him to exploit students and others. And if we steal that away, the heart, he'll lose those desires.”

“And then he'll feel guilty about it and turn himself in!” Ann finished. “You know... it would get you out of your situation, too... right?”

This time Akechi didn't ignore her. Instead, he turned around and looked at her with an unreadable expression. There was something about him that made Akira... uncomfortable, but before he had time to reflect on the precise reason, Akechi was smiling warily at them.

“So we will all profit from this, is what you're trying to say.”

“More or less,” Akira confirmed.

“And what do you want me to do?”

It wasn't exactly a 'yes', but it was a good start. Morgana picked up on the implications, and his tailed moved excitedly back and forth.

“Come with with us,” he said. “It may be dangerous, but we'll protect you!”

Akechi thoughtfully put a hand to his chin, and during the next few second lost himself in thought, staring at the air in front of him. The Phantom Thieves waited in silence.

“So what's the plan?” he finally asked. Morgana let out a pleased snicker, and his elation was contagious. Akira could tolerate all their setbacks so far now that something _finally_ had worked out for them, and a quick look revealed that his teammates were on the same page. Ann looked overjoyed (“That's great!”), Yusuke hummed approvingly and even Ryuji seemed relieved.

“First, we need to get into the bank,” Morgana said, pointing towards the building in the sky. Despite being in the exact same position as the last time, Akira couldn't help but feel that it was now much less intimidating, much less impenetrable. He was pretty confident about this new approach, after all. “Then, we need to look for the treasure, since we don't know where it is.”

“We also need to avoid any guards,” Ann said. “And Kaneshiro's shadow, though we don't always get a choice...”

“Shadow?” Akechi repeated. Ann picked up on his cautious tone, and opened her mouth with a sympathetic gleam in her eye, but Yusuke cut in before she could say anything.

“A representation of Kaneshiro's darker nature, the part he doesn't want others to see,” he explained matter-of-factly.

“It's not the real Kaneshiro,” Ann added. “Kaneshiro in the real world doesn't have a clue what happens inside here.”

If her answer eased his anxiety, or brought any kind of relief, he didn't show. Akira was starting to sense a pattern. But who was he to judge, when his entire Metaverse quirk was centered around his ability to put up the right front at the right time?

* * *

 In accordance with their plan, the bank did indeed lower itself to the ground as they approached with Akechi following close by. In a hilarious contrast to Morgana's strict directions on how to properly infiltrate back from their first visit to Kamoshida's palace, they ended up walking in through the front door. After all, thieves might sneak in through hidden entrances, but legitimate customers did not. As long as they were ready to defend Akechi the moment the Shadows turned on them they should be fine, or so they reasoned. Until then, they'd keep up the pretense.

It must have worked, because rather than being met with aggression they were directed towards an area designated “staff”, without much explanation. With no other clear goal in sight (and the unspoken threats of violence should they divert from their assigned direction), they followed the instructions and walked further in.

“I didn't expect a band of thieves to go the bureaucratic route. Or through the front door,” Akechi said, sounding amused, and Ann shrugged nervously.

“It's a bit odd, isn't it?”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Yusuke warned them, and Morgana nodded.

“We haven't been recognized as threats yet, and we should make sure to gather as much intel as we can before they realize why we're here.”

“So what's up the outfits, anyway?” Akechi continued. They took a turn and looked for some kind of indication where to go next before continuing. “You definitely don't sneak off to a phone booth, because it happened instantly. Is that Kaneshiro's mind, too?” He let out a giggle that almost sounded out of character. “Does he know who you are? Is that his idea of bank robbers or what?”

“Are you makin' fun of us?” Ryuji snapped defensively.

“It looks fun,” Akechi offered, and it was impossible to tell whether he was being low key sarcastic or genuine. “Do you break into vaults and all that stuff too? That's what phantom thieves do, isn't it?”

“It's not Kaneshiro,” Morgana said. His ears twitched, and Akira, who had spent plenty of time with him already, could tell that he wasn't entertained by Akechi's jokes like Ann was. Or maybe Ann was the problem, so to speak, because she didn't seem to mind Akechi's company at all, something that hadn't escaped the jealous cat's attention. “It's our inner images of a rebel. A will to rebel is what it takes to become a Phantom Thief in the first place, and our outfits reflect that!”

“A rebel, huh...”

Their discussion came to an end when they found the room they were searching for, and after some consultation they cautiously entered.

Not entirely unexpectedly, things went poorly.

Akira wasn't exactly sure what he had expected from Kaneshiro, since he hadn't actually met him in person yet. But after how intimidating and threatening Akechi and the general rumors had built him up as, his short, stout stature, topped with a pathetic mop of hair was a little anticlimactic. The alarmingly violent skin (hopefully exclusive to his Shadow) didn't help his case. He reminded himself that Kaneshiro wasn't feared for his physical strength, and he did notice how Akechi balked at the sight. He didn't look afraid per se, but Kaneshiro's appearance was enough to make him visibly uncomfortable.

Kaneshiro's disinterested look slowly transformed into a amused sneer.

“Huh? Akechi? I wasn't expecting someone like you here. And in such company, at that.” He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming dangerously as he met Akechi's gaze. “So what's your business today? Think _very_ carefully before answering.”

“They asked for an appointment with you,” Akechi said. His former nervousness was gone, but Akira nevertheless stepped forward so that he stood closer to his side, as a signal to Kaneshiro.

The gangster laughed loudly, taking his time, but stopped abruptly and was suddenly shouting.

“Are you an idiot?! Leading a band of thieves into _my_ bank? What, do you _want_ me to be robbed?!”

“I didn't doubt that someone like you would have no problem subduing them if nec-”

A loud slap cut Akechi's explanations short. Ann shouted his name. One of Kaneshiro's Shadow guards had stepped forward and, before any of the Thieves could stop him, backhanded Akechi with enough force that he staggered backwards and landed on the floor. He quickly scrambled back to his feet, refusing to acknowledge the darkly colored spot that was starting to form on the right side of his face.

“Know your place,” Kaneshiro snarled. “I think you know exactly what will happen if you make me your enemy. There's no place for someone like _you_ in society-”

Any chance of getting out peacefully was already gone. Akira decided that the impending monologue was a great opportunity to take their enemy by surprise, and the entire room shook as he called forth a Persona and attacked. Ryuji, Yusuke and Morgana quickly joined in. While they fought off the hostile Shadows, Ann took Akechi's hand and remained protectively by his side away from the fight, incinerating those who dared step too close.

They soon realized that fighting inside the office was a terrible idea: the bank was Kaneshiro's territory, and as long as he was aware of their presence and position, nothing stopped him from summoning endless amounts of security and backup to stop them. Retreating was their only viable option. They ran until they were back at the entrance, where the doors had been closed since their arrival, and the Shadows giving chase had grown exponentially and were capable of surrounding them with ease. They hadn't succeeded in outrunning them, which meant that the amount of guards they had to fight kept growing as they finally caught up.

“Come on, Akechi,” Kaneshiro said in a sing-song voice, clearly enjoying the sight of their predicament. “Give them to me. You'll be in _less_ trouble, I swear! We'll need to adjust your terms, however...”

Akechi laughed, and took a step forward so that he was standing next to Akira. He kept clenching and unclenching his left hand, and scowled at Kaneshiro.

“I hate this life, cowering before someone like you. And yet I stay. Because I have nothing if I leave. So that means... I have nothing to lose either, right? If I do this.”

Before anyone had registered what happened, Akechi's hand (the impatient left one) shot out and grabbed the model gun hanging at Joker's side, and aimed it without hesitation at the Shadow before pulling the trigger once, twice, thrice. Akira lost count after that. The Shadow was caught in the hail of bullets. His guards looked on in confusion, unsure of what to do.

“Right, let's go-”

With a moan, Akechi doubled over and stumbled to his knees. Though he initially managed to catch himself he eventually had to bow to the pain, literally, and he pressed his forehead hard against the floor even as he writhed in agony. It only took a moment for Akira (and the rest) to realize what was going on, and though the timing was a little unfortunate, they made sure that no Shadow was able to come close enough to interrupt the awakening.

Did Akechi's Persona speak to him like Arsène had? Probably, but Akira could only imagine the actual words. Akechi finally stood up and ripped off a bright red mask, as red as the blood that trailed down his cheeks and framed his smirk in crimson. The mask in his hand caught fire, as did the very air around him before adorning him in blinding white and gold and red. There was no denying that he looked very different from the rest of them: where they were dark, suited to a life outside the law, Akechi was bright and uniformed, lavishly decorated all the way up to the golden epaulettes that trembled with his every movement.

Then, in a massive contrast to his own dignified appearance, a slim, demon-like creature rose up behind him, covered in black and white stripes that made it difficult to get an idea of his true shape. Akira could make out golden hooves, two horns and falling braids, as well an enormous sword, glowing hot and at least as long as as Akechi's own height.

“Ascend! _Loki_!”

The Persona brought down the massive sword on their enemies, smashing the Shadows' formation and forcing disarray into their ranks. Then Akechi went for Kaneshiro, and by the looks of it he was doing well enough. Akira remember that both Ryuji and Yusuke (and probably himself and Ann as well, though he had been unable to see) had worn a unusually confident expressions at the moment of their awakening, but Akechi took that expression and turned it up to eleven. He looked almost unhinged in his eagerness, and his wide sneer would occasionally be break into disoriented laughter while he ordered the Persona to attack. The prudent fear he had displayed before had been been banished in the flames.

But Akechi was acting rashly, and Akira feared that if he didn't start to pay attention instead of striking out madly they might just end up overwhelmed again, despite everyone's best efforts. Akechi wasn't fighting as much as he was _rampaging_.

“Now, everyone!”

Morgana threw open his doors, having used the confusion to turn into his bus form. Apparently, they were going to breach the closed front doors by force. Akira called out for Akechi, and if he was surprised by yet another of the quirks of the Metaverse, he quickly adapted. He turned around, leaving his back exposed in his singlemindedness, and had Loki assault the sturdy doors with his sword. The wood groaned loudly as it splintered, though it didn't give way completely before Akira practically hauled their last teammate into the vehicle.

Ann had already taken the driver's seat. Even if she didn't have her driver's license yet she managed to press the gas just fine and they sped out of the bank, bringing down what remained of the doors with them. They drove until they reached the point where they had entered the world, after which they were unceremoniously flung out into he real world, and they landed on the pavement in an unorganized heap all over each other.

Akechi hissed at impact, then went quiet. With an astonished look on his face, he blinked a few times – and burst out into quiet laughter again. His expression now was barely a cheap imitation of the unfettered self that had been exposed in the Palace, and Akira couldn't help but think that his appearance must be deceiving to anyone who hadn't seen what had come before. In the light of his newly released longing for freedom Akechi had _burned_ , and to the apathetic universe around them there must be little difference between the docile flames of a fireplace and those of the raging wildfire that would consume the entire house should it come in its way.

“Well, that was interesting,” Akechi said, smiling contentedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My take on Goro's starter Persona and outfit. Hardly orthodox, but at least there's nothing in canon (so far...) outright contradicting it. Yay for creative freedom! I realise I'll make myself look like an idiot once I have to use Robin Hood as his ultimate when Loki is a much better fit thematically, but nobody is ever going to convince me that Loki wasn't his first anyway. (Also, in my defence, Loki's colours more or less match his white outfit too, I always thought that was interesting.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Akechi brings a gun to a (model) knife fight.
> 
> I'm usually a rather, shall we say economical writer (mainly due to impatience), so I still remember how surprised I was back when I started writing this and I was like "How have I written 10k without even starting the Palace??" And then it grew even longer. I have absolutely no idea how long the finished thing will be, but at least I'm enjoying the ride.

The Phantom Thieves decided to move to the diner where they occasionally hang out, in order to escape the curious glances they received from the passers-by on the crowded street. “Out of sight, out of mind” was still a legit approach to dealing with the masses, and while the concept itself was disconcerting, Akira had to confess that he also could see the appeal of it. Sometimes. It all depended on whether you were the one who benefited from the disappearance.

“So, that happened,” Ann said, the first to break the silence once they were safely seated in one of the booths. The place was reasonably packed, and the indistinct chatter of the people around would work to their advantage, as long as they didn't raise their own voices. “I... didn't expect it, but I'm glad you got through it, Akechi.”

She smiled widely. “You're like us, now.”

“Is he goin' to join us too?” Ryuji asked with an incredulous look.

“It's what everyone has done so far,” Akira mused. Well, _everyone_ might be an exaggeration. In reality, only two people had joined in a similar manner, but the meeting between Ryuji, Morgana and Akira had been so circumstantial it was hard to compare to anything. If Akechi felt the same, they'd already make three, after all. Half their numbers.

“I wouldn't mind if he did,” Yusuke said. “It's only fair to give him a chance to take down Kaneshiro. Much like you offered me that opportunity with Madarame.”

Ryuji shook his head.

“That outfit, though... Are you sure it's fit for stealin', and not just accidentally stabbin' us in the back?”

“You're the one who accused _me_ of making fun of you,” Akechi told him, and there was a sharp edge to his voice. (Almost as sharp as his-)

Akira had to admit he had a point, though.

“Yeah. Cut it, Ryuji,” Ann agreed. “I think his outfit looks great. Very smart. Handsome, even.”

Ryuji rolled his eyes, unimpressed by Ann's attempt at selling the style.

“Yeah, well of course _you_ 'd-”

He was interrupted, however, by someone who took Ann's opinion a lot more seriously.

“What about my outfit, Lady Ann? Don't you think I look handsome, too?”

Due to the angles and the limited space, Akira was quite sure that he was the only one could see the way his tail wagged anxiously. Unfortunately, there was nothing to conceal the desperate jealousy in his voice, and even Ann picked up at that there was something odd about it.

“Of course you look nice!” she said and smiled widely, speaking the words she thought the cat wanted to hear. “You're very cute, Morgana!”

His head drooped.

“I- I'm... _cute_...”

Morgana's defeated mumble (though there was a hint of stubborn pride in there as well) was so weak that only Akira picked it up, and he didn't miss the way Morgana glared at Akechi from that point on. The boy himself (and Ann as well) remained perfectly unaware off the unconventional triangle (or tangle) he had accidentally gotten involved in.

“Returning to the matter at hand,” Akira said loudly, indicating the change in topic, and turned to Akechi. “What do you say? Will you be joining us properly in reforming Kaneshiro?”

Akechi put a hand to his chin, thinking. His smile had turned apologetic by the time he replied:

“It's a very generous offer,” he insisted, sounding grateful, yet Akira could practically hear the _but_ even before it left his tongue. “But I don't know anything about what you do, or about that other world, or even who you are. Nothing more than what I've heard on the television, and I'm sure mainstream media isn't the most... trustworthy of sources.”

“Of course.” Though initially a little taken aback by the lukewarm response, Yusuke nodded understandingly.

“Well, that's easily fixed,” Ann said. As odd as the reaction might have seemed, she sounded relieved. Like she had expected worse. “My name's Ann! Ann Takamaki. What do you want to know?”

For the next thirty minutes or so, Akechi asked a number of questions (what was the Metaverse, what were all those rumors on the news based on, why were they doing this) that the Thieves attempted to answer best they could. Occasionally they'd hit a topic where they had to admit that they didn't know much, and had to turn to Morgana. Their Metaverse guide was a little disgruntled at first, and Akira wondered exactly how seriously the cat was taking his newly found grudge against his (imagined) rival, but he was soon back to his normal self. He enthusiastically explained the workings of the Metaverse, the nature of Personas and Shadows, and their approach to the manifestations of a person's repressed self that was known as a Palace.

“So by stealing the treasure, the guilt of their former misdeeds finally catch up with them? And they just... quit and turn themselves in, in an attempt to atone?” Akechi asked warily. Much the way you approach an offer that seems too good to be true. Akira knew, because Akechi definitely wasn't the first to think something like that.

He went quiet for at least a full minute, lost in deep thought. Ann had started a reply, but trailed off once she realized he wasn't paying attention, or even registering that she was speaking. He was giving Yusuke some serious competition in the art of losing oneself. There was little they could do, and they awkwardly glanced at each other until Akechi finally reacted.

He frowned.

Akira suddenly had a bad feeling.

“I... I'm sorry. I just... I need to think about this,” Akechi said.

Of course Akira was disappointed by the answer, but not so much that he didn't notice the subtle tremble in Akechi's voice. The inkling of an emotion had slipped through the mask, feelings that he normally must have kept bottled up behind that pleasant smile of his – and Akira was not entirely unsurprised to realize that it was fear. Fear of Kaneshiro, and possible repercussions?

“What the hell,” Ryuji exclaimed, and Ann couldn't hold back a disappointed sigh.

“I understand that it might seem overwhelming,” Yusuke said diplomatically, then turned to Morgana. “But if Akechi doesn't come along with us, what happens with the Palace? Will we still be able to infiltrate?”

“I... don't know,” Morgana admitted. He had nevertheless taken the rejection the best out of them, and his tone was devoid of any kind of blame as he thought out loud. “Maybe today was enough, we'll have to find out. Otherwise, we have to go back to our original plan and find Kaneshiro in the real world.”

“But you didn't want to help us with that either, did you?” Ann asked Akechi, worried.

Before he could answer, the phone in his pocket buzzed. Akechi seemed grateful for the interruption, and immediately ignored them in favor of checking his messages. The contents must have been less than pleasing, however, and in a few seconds he was frowning even deeper than before.

“I'm sorry, there's some business I need to take care off. I understand that I'm leaving you in a bad situation, but this can't wait. We'll have to speak again later.”

“Is everything alright?” Yusuke asked. Akechi forced back the strained smile.

“Like I said, I'm sorry.”

He snatched his briefcase and headed for the door, and Akira remembered that they hadn't exchanged contact information yet. He cried out “Wait!” (to his surprise, Akechi complied) and quickly scribbled his phone number and chat ID on a piece of paper that may or may not have been part of his social studies homework. Akechi took a look at the writing, nodded, put it in his pocket and disappeared through the door before they could stop him.

“He didn't even give us his own number, that bastard,” Ryuji muttered. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Akira realized that they were forced to rely on Akechi to initiate any further contact. He didn't want to believe that the student, similar to them in so many ways, would sell them out to Kaneshiro or actively hinder their attempt to make Kaneshiro confess, but he also couldn't get his reluctant reaction to their offer out of his mind. Could Akira hope that Akechi feared only for is own involvement, or was there another piece of the puzzle missing? Surely he had no incentive to impair their progress after he awakened a Persona, a gesture of rebellion its own right, in his encounter with Shadow Kaneshiro?

In the end, there was nothing they could do, and they split up in quiet unease.

* * *

Akira didn't have to worry for long. Later that evening, an unknown number texted him, the message containing only a greeting and his his name.

???: Hi, is this Kurusu-san?

AKIRA: Akechi-san?

AKECHI: Ah, finally the right number.

Before Akira could ask him what he meant (his handwriting wasn't _that_ illegible), Akechi rapidly sent off a few more messages.

AKECHI: I apologize for my behavior earlier today.

AKECHI: Could we meet up tomorrow? Any time and place is fine.

AKECHI: I've reconsidered your offer.

AKECHI: Again, sorry for the inconvenience.

“He changed his mind?” Morgana asked hopefully. The two of them had been discussing how to go on about the infiltration since they returned home, and most of their ideas had been questionable at best, or based on shaky premises. Akechi rejoining them really was the optimal solution.

AKIRA: Of course. And don't worry about it.

AKIRA: There's a cafe in Yongen-Jaya, Leblanc. Think you could come after school?

He sent the exact address and even a blurry photo that he found once he scrolled almost to the bottom of the picture folder.

AKECHI: Thank you.

AKECHI: I'm afraid my schedule has been a bit... irregular recently. When do you guys finish school? I'll come as soon as I can.

Akira was all but sure that those “irregularities” were related to Kaneshiro's shady business. He'd probably find out soon.

AKIRA: Four o'clock ok with you?

AKECHI: Yes. Thanks.

He informed Ryuji, Ann and Yusuke of what Akechi had told him. Their reactions were predictably positive. Even so, Akira found himself unable to sleep long after Morgana told him to turn out the lights, mulling over the implications of the reply. He sincerely hoped that Akechi had simply thought it over and arrived at the conclusion that he could indeed trust them, or even just the pragmatic realization that they offered the most convenient solution to his problem. Yet he couldn't shake off the idea that it would take some sort of catalyst to cause such a 180 degree turn in only a few hours...

* * *

The others had already arrived and were happily chatting away when at four o'clock sharp, the small bell on the door chimed brightly and welcomed their latest arrival. Almost bashfully, Akechi entered, briefcase tightly grasped in his left hand, and it didn't take long to realize why he seemed so reluctant.

“What happened?” Ann cried when she saw the the dark, ugly bruise on his cheek. The uneven coloring spoke of an (unsuccessful) attempt to cover it up.

Akechi smiled, though in his attempts not to cause himself any further discomfort it ended up more like a grimace. Akira immediately realized why the bruise looked so familiar – it was almost identical in placement to the one he had received a day prior in the Metaverse. But injuries from the cognitive world didn't carry over to the real world, and neither had this one. Akira had been able to confirm it at the diner. Which meant that he had been hit _after_ he left them yesterday. And he was ready to bet all the yen he had extorted from Shadows in Mementos recently that it was related to the message he had received shortly before leaving.

Sojiro had left the cafe to them, since it was a particularly slow day, and for that Akira was immensely grateful. Akechi seemed adverse enough to speaking as it was, and having some one else present might have caused him to clam up completely.

“Coffee?” he simply asked, very deliberately not bringing any more attention to his state in hopes of making him a little less tense. Ryuji shot him an odd look, and Akechi seemed more suspicious than grateful, but he kept up the innocuous facade.

“Sure.”

Akechi eventually caved in. He took a seat by the counter (rather than the booth where the others were sitting), and Akira got to work.

“I'll have one as well,” Yusuke requested, and with a smile Akira obediently made sure he had enough for two.

“So you work here?” Akechi asked, curiously leaning over the counter as he watched him prepare the drinks.

“Sort of,” Akira answered. He took a moment to think about what to do next. He hadn't been doing this for very long, after all; but Sojiro said he was decent at least, so it should be servable. “But let's stop beating around the bush. You wanted to see us?”

Akechi sighed with a resigned expression.

“Yes.” He hesitated a moment, then admitted: “The message I got last evening was from Kaneshiro.”

“Did he do that to you?” Ann immediately asked, the question coated with anger.

“Technically, no. He has underlings for that,” Akechi deadpanned. “I... I'm finding myself in a compromising situation, however.”

He fidgeted nervously, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. “I have a debt, sort of. Kaneshiro has demanded that I pay it in full within two weeks.”

“For real?” Ryuji exclaimed, shocked. “And if you don't?”

His gaze was inevitably drawn towards the proof of violence on the boy's face.

“Let's not think about that,” Akechi suggested. “I find the timing _very_ interesting, however. He has never showed any inclination do distrust me in particular before. Or even notice me.”

“It can't be the Palace!” Ann exclaimed, sounding almost panicked. She turned to Morgana with pleading eyes. “Right, Morgana? The Shadows are completely separate beings, aren't they? Neither Kamoshida or Madarame ever suspected us!”

“Well, they're not exactly _separate_ ,” Morgana said, shrinking beneath the attention. “After all, we're changing their Shadows to change the actual person. Their real self doesn't know what happens in the Palace, but I guess... it's possible some sentiment lingers in their subconscious...”

“I see,” Akechi said curtly. For a few tense seconds, Akira feared that he'd blame them for his predicament – and it was a fair assumption, given the circumstances. After all, they had told him that he'd face no consequences in the real world. And he was right, the timing _was_ too perfect to be coincidental.

“The reaction is much stronger than anything we've seen before, if that's the case,” Yusuke said grimly. “I lived with Madarame for quite a while before his heart changed, and he never suspected anything.”

“Yeah, Kamoshida too,” Ryuji agreed, then scowled. “Though he did hate our guts anyway.”

“I believe you,” Akechi said, and Akira would have lied if he claimed he didn't feel relieved upon hearing it. Of course it didn't exonerate them, had the abuse Akechi suffered really been their fault, but at least it gave them a chance to fix it and to help him get out before it escalated. “After all, if he _truly_ knew what I did, I doubt I would have been allowed to get away alive.”

“Dude, how can you say that so casually,” Ryuji muttered. In the brief silence that ensued, Akira found some time to serve the two (mediocre) cups of coffee that he had promised. He demonstratively put them down on the table were the others were seated, and Akechi took the hint and joined them. Right now the brew seemed like a very poor apology for everything that had occurred, but Akechi took his cup without fuss. He sipped the coffee and smiled stoically. Whether it was a compliment to its “quality” or as general encouragement, Akira couldn't tell.

“Putting that aside, I have no means to repay that debt. Not in a time frame like this.” Akechi chuckled dryly. “I'm sure Kaneshiro knows. He's probably more interested in... _alternate_ means of repayment.”

Judging by the grim look that briefly passed over his face, Akechi had a fairly good idea of what to expect, and it wasn't good. Not that Akira needed any more reasons to help him out.

“So how big is this... debt of yours?” Yusuke asked.

“A few million, maybe?” When Akechi noticed their stunned looks, he simply shrugged. “Kaneshiro's not a rational person. Once he gets hold of you, he threatens you, and if you don't comply you'll be outed and your life will be ruined. The actual number doesn't matter; he knows students can't fight back, and then they're stuck with him. Eventually, he can do whatever he wants with them, because they have nowhere else to go.”

Niijima's research had been disturbingly accurate.

“For real!? So why ain't you jumpin' at the chance to get out?” Ryuji asked, perturbed. “Maybe I'm just stupid, but it seems to me you're pretty much fucked.”

“The situation has become... unsustainable,” Akechi confessed. Akira got the feeling that saying even that much had been a heavy strain on his pride. “So... I'm going to take up on your offer. If it still stands... and if you'll have me.”

The last few words were quiet, and almost got drowned out by Ann's passionate reply:

“ _Of course_ it still stands! We're happy to have you with us, and not just because you'll be useful! I don't want you or anyone else to go through that!”

“Jeez, I'm not goin' to say no after that,” Ryuji agreed. Yusuke and Morgana offered their agreements as well. Finally, Akechi's eyes sought out Akira, who nodded resolutely.

“Very well. Then I'll help you in stealing Kaneshiro's heart,” Akechi said, and while his tone was confident, there was still just a hint of reluctance in the way his gaze darted back and forth between them.

“That's great!” Ann said excitedly and smiled warmly at him.

“But you won't ask me to take you to Kaneshiro again,” Akechi said, and it was clear that the condition was non-negotiable. In theory, Akira had no problem with this, but he turned to Morgana and asked him just to make sure.

“Well, it shouldn't be necessary,” Morgana replied and did some sort of odd cat-shrug. “As long as Akechi stays with us, we should be able to move around. And I guess if Kaneshiro doesn't know who we are, we are minimizing the danger in the real world.”

“Is it really okay, putting only Akechi at risk like this, though?” Yusuke asked seriously. Akechi smiled dismissively, but Ann seemed similarly concerned and gently touched his bruised cheek. Akechi firmly swept her hand aside.

“It's alright, Takamaki-san.”

“You know you can call me just Ann, right? We'll be working together now.”

Akechi didn't reply, but Ryuji wasn't letting him off that easy.

“Right. You made a fuss about not knowin' us yesterday, but you've told us even less! We don't even know _your_ name.”

Akechi groaned exasperatedly. He looked to Akira, perhaps searching for an ally, but found none. Trust was a two-way street, after all. Akechi had been given information that could potentially ruin them, and while Akira didn't have a reason to outright distrust him, he also didn't want to remain completely left in the dark.

“Goro,” Akechi finally answered, grimacing as though the very syllables tasted foul on his tongue. He sighed, and leaned against his left hand. “Goro Akechi.”

“So how did you end up working for Kaneshiro anyway?” Ann asked, as tactfully as she could as she succumbed to the curiosity that must have been gnawing at her for quite a while by now. It didn't go unnoticed by Akechi.

“It's a long story,” he said, feigning disinterest.

“You don't need to share everything immediately, if you don't want to,” Yusuke said. “Though we'd appreciate to know if there's anything that affects the mission.”

Akechi sighed again, then shook his head. “No, it's okay. Besides, you're hardly going to leave me alone until I tell you, right?”

“We won't snoop!” Ann protested, and Akechi smiled disarmingly. Knowingly.

“I didn't say you were going to. Still, it isn't anything special. Much like the others that ended up in Kaneshiro's service, I guess. I was offered a job, and while I didn't take it, I ended up in in the wrong place at the wrong time anyway. Next thing I knew, they were threatening to tell my school about my supposed criminal activity and- well. It snowballed from there.”

“That's awful,” Ann winced.

“You have no guardian who can help you?” Yusuke asked sympathetically. Akechi chuckled bitterly.

“No. And that is the part where I have said enough. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to spill my family drama on the second date.”

Akechi crossed his arms over his chest, daring them to question his decision. The others remained quiet, and Akira got the feeling that they were deferring the choice whether to pry further or not to him.

The explanation had been hopelessly bare-bones, but it wasn't like Akira couldn't sympathize with him. After all, he too had parents who hadn't reacted very well to news of criminal entanglement. While he hadn't been offered the choice _not_ to inform them of the assault case, he probably wouldn't have wanted to, unless he felt like there was no way out, that he'd have nothing left to lose.

Was Akechi still holding out for hope, then?

“It's fine,” he said.

“Man, how many do you reckon Kaneshiro's done something like this to?” Ryuji asked.

“Too many,” Ann declared. “We're putting an end to this. And we're getting Akechi out, too!”

“I have an idea,” Morgana piped up. “Why don't we go to Mementos right now, and show him the basics? Only if he's feeling up to it, of course.”

“Don't worry about me,” Akechi said, and stood up. “I won't slow you down.”

“That's _so_ not what we meant,” Ryuji said, wiggling out of his seat. He grinned. “You're on the team now, you know? Start behavin' like it!”

He took a step closer and gave Akechi a forceful but friendly slap on the back... and Akechi immediately sucked in a hissing breath and winced in pain. Ryuji flinched like he too had been struck.

“I'm not that strong!” he defended himself against Ann's accusing glare.

“It's okay,” Akechi wheezed. “I'm a bit... sore...”

No further explanation was necessary.

“You mean there's _more_?!” Ann asked, horrified, her misdirected anger at Ryuji completely forgotten.

“Just bruises. Now, you said we were going somewhere...”

“Maybe this wasn't a very good idea,” Yusuke said, tactfully understating what they all were already thinking.

“Nothing's broken, I've been through worse,” Akechi insisted in a tone that probably was supposed to make them feel better. Or, in more honest and practical terms, to leave him alone and stop pestering him about it. All Akira heard, though, was an order not to defer any important judgments about health to the boy himself without double checking, ever.

“Dude, you're not makin' your case any better,” Ryuji commented and rolled his eyes.

* * *

In the end, Akechi managed to convince them to take him along anyway. As the leader, Akira felt obliged to at least acknowledge his attempt at an cooperative spirit. And truth was, without the Metaverse they were helpless to change anything about his situation in order to prevent further abuse, so he convinced himself that it was the best they could do for now.

They had already explained the basics of the Metaverse to the newcomer, but since they had some time they described Mementos as well, and the dangers that lurked within. Akechi, as usually, took it all in stride, and overall, Akira felt pretty good about the situation. They were prepared. So of course, once they reached their destination, they ran headlong into the next piece of culture shock that Akechi had prepared.

They were standing at the entrance to Mementos, already dressed for infiltration. After taking a moment to marvel at his unfamiliar appearance, Akechi excused himself and asked for a minute. He proceeded to open his briefcase (which he had insisted on bringing), exposing at least two hidden compartments before finally pulling out a small object. A gun.

Maybe Akira had been naive, presuming that Akechi's weapon would be a model like theirs were. Nevertheless it didn't take Akira long to figure out the details once he started fiddling with very real _ammunition_.

“Akechi-”

“Is that... a real gun?” Ryuji took a step backwards, and behind him, Morgana was staring to the point were his eyes almost bulged out. “Why... why do you even have that?”

Akechi scoffed dismissively and didn't deign him an answer. Akira would have to grill him on that later, whether it had been given to him for his work or if he had gotten hold of it himself for safety reasons – but for now he would be appeased seeing it put away.

The others were similarly disturbed, looking at the weapon with skeptical expressions which not even their masks could hide. The reaction surprised Goro; his gaze darted between the others and the gun, before stopping at Akira.

“You need to fight, right? And all of you-”

“They're just models,” Akira quickly interrupted him, and realized that it was one of the few crucial details they had neglected to mention so far. He hadn't actually thought... “We don't need more than that in the Metaverse.”

“...Models?”

Akechi still looked confused. He motioned towards Akira's model gun, and he handed it over so that Akechi could inspect it closer. The boy scrutinized it from every possible angle (or that's what he presumed he was doing, but Akira wasn't the expert) while the rest of them looked on in poignant silence. The deliberate movements of his hands was just more proof that he wasn't unfamiliar with the real deal. He even held it trained on a spot on the wall in front of him, before he seemed content. “It's a very good one,” he finally admitted and handed it back.

Morgana quickly explained the idea behind the model weapons and how they could still do damage despite not being real.

“Even so, this should serve, right?” Akechi tried again.

“We're _not_ taking real weapons with us,” Ann said flatly, leaving no room for objections. “Isn't that dangerous?”

Akechi gave her a vexed _Look_ , capital L and everything.

“I have no idea what a real weapon could here,” Morgana admitted. But his distaste was apparent as he eyed the metal warily.

“Yes, we shouldn't take any unnecessary risks,” Yusuke agreed.

“Maybe we should try again tomorrow,” Akira suggested. Akechi looked like he wanted to protest, but when everyone else loudly agreed, he remained quiet.

“Very well. Tomorrow, then,” he conceded, graciously but with a hint of disappointment.

The return to the real world was a little awkward to say the least, and the rest of the gang dispersed quicker than usual. Soon there was only Akira, Akechi and Morgana left. To his surprise, Akechi actually looked dejected, and he had no idea when that had happened. A pang of guilt came over Akira.

“That really wasn't your fault,” he said sympathetically. “We should have explained.”

While he couldn't see it, he could feel Morgana nodding fervently in agreement, his paws heavy on Akira's shoulders. “Mm, he's right!” Even the cat sounded a little guilty.

Akechi closed his eyes and laughed. “No, it's good,” he said softly, and forced a smile. “That's how a student _should_ react to a firearm. I must have forgotten. It just means you're not fucked up yet.”

“And neither are you,” Akira firmly insisted, adamant about banishing the unspoken implications before they were allowed to fester in silence. Akechi accepted the words with a small, resigned exhalation, but seemed to take them to heart. Still, Akira couldn't help but wonder for just how long he had been in this arrangement to get so jaded. Weeks? Was that really enough? Maybe he had been among the first, or maybe the scamming had been going on for longer than they were aware of...?

Akira was once again reminded that Akechi hadn't shared many details about himself so far. He'd have to talk to him, if only for his own sake; holding that many secrets couldn't be healthy. But not today; Akechi's dignity had been trampled on enough already.

“Your replica is very good,” Akechi offered. “Who supplies you?”

“There's this shop by Central Street, it's in a small side alley. _Untouchable_. The owner's a bit intimidating, but he knows his stuff.”

“I may have heard of it,” Akechi said thoughtfully. “I'll visit, then.”

“If he won't listen, tell him I sent you,” Akira helpfully added. Since he started working there Iwai had become a lot more cooperative. “And go wild in there – he has _lots_ of stuff. Nothing's too outrageous. Ann's got a _whip_. And Morgana uses a slingshot.”

“Hey, why are you acting like _we_ 're the weirdos?” Morgana exclaimed, offended. “Look at Ryuji, he's just _hitting_ things!”

Akechi laughed, and the sound was unusually bright. “You're quite something,” he said, and his eyes twinkled. “Well then. Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Actually, we could meet up here, at the station. I'll add you to the group chat later today. By the way,” Akira said, finally remembering something he had been wondering about. “What was that thing about getting the right number, yesterday? I gave it to you, right?”

“Ah. That.” Akechi smiled sheepishly. “I threw it in a trash can when I got outside. Fortunately, I remembered where I disposed of it, but there were... smudges. I had to make a few guesses before getting it right.”

“...right,” Akira deadpanned, not impressed by Akechi's antics. Then he frowned. That was... a rather strong reaction, considering the circumstances. Akechi had been dead set on staying in his violent relationship with the mafia, even after they offered him a way out. Though he had ultimately sought them out again once his life was threatened (so he _did_ possess basic self preservation, despite all the evidence to the contrary), Akira didn't feel comfortable leaving it unaddressed. “Why?”

Akechi snorted. “I couldn't very well bring your number to Kaneshiro, now could I? If things had gone south, he could have gone for you next. Trust me, you don't want that.”

Was it a good enough reason? Was it the _only_ reason? Akira couldn't know, but either way, there was a very important piece missing in that logic.

“We don't want you there either,” Akira said, and Akechi looked at him with an odd expression. The way he left, with an cheerful and obviously fake _See you_ , just added yet another thing to the list of bizarre things about Goro Akechi. A list that was already ridiculously long for an acquaintance of only three days, anyway.

* * *

The next day, Akira made a quick trip to Central Street looking for supplies, and decided to stop by Iwai's and ask about Akechi. Just to check that he was prepared for the test run. He was surprised to hear that he had supposedly looked in only a few hours earlier that day. Shouldn't he be in school? Was he running shady business for Kaneshiro again? But raising suspicion through absence was still better than the alternative...

”Oh, so the kid is yours?” Iwai asked, unaware of the unfolding inner monologue. He scratched the back of his head, examined Akira for a moment, and finally shook his head. ”I shoulda known your associates would be just as weird as you.”

”Weird?”

Iwai chuckled. ”A walking contradiction, that boy is. Looks polished enough, but knows lingo he definitely shouldn't. And then there's his choice of weapon...”

He laughed again, and seemed genuinely entertained by the whole thing even as he shook his head. Akira asked him if there was anything wrong, but Iwai just waved his hand dismissively.

”Oh, you'll see. I can't spoil the surprise. Now, was there anything else you wanted?”

* * *

Akechi was already there when Akira and Morgana arrived at the station square. At least he didn't look any more beaten up than yesterday, and in fact he had taken more care in covering up the bruised skin. Just to be sure, Akira asked him about it, but Akechi claimed that he was laying low and that Kaneshiro so far had been content to harass him by phone.

The others eventually arrived, Ryuji and Ann together, followed by Yusuke some five minutes later. Akira was glad to discover that the awkwardness from yesterday was forgotten, and Ann happily chatted away with Akechi, asking about his day and about school. Of course, Akechi himself was tight-lipped as ever, answering only in short sentences that mostly amounted to conversational yet vague platitudes, but he was slowly warming up.

Akira grinned. Ann might be a lousy actor, but when she _wasn't_ actively trying she could ensnare anyone in her innate, sincere charm. By the time the conversation had moved on to the Metaverse, Akechi almost seemed to enjoy himself.

They made sure that no one was actively watching them, then activated the app and watched the familiar dreamscape fade in around them.

”Oh, right!” Ann said, stopping right before they were about to enter the gate. ”We never decided on a code name for Akechi, did we?”

”Ah, you did mention something about that,” Akechi replied. ”Tell me yours first, will you?”

They introduced themselves a second time. Everything went fine until Morgana said his name, and Akechi smiled. It wasn't malicious or overly bullying, but the reaction was a little unfortunate, especially since Morgana also noticed.

Ann smiled fondly. ”Mona is unique! I think your name is very cute, Mona-chan~”

”Cute...” Morgana groaned unhappily and glared daggers at Akechi. Who didn't notice, because he had turned his attention to Ryuji.

”Well, we all went by the looks of our masks, so you should be... Mosquito,” the blond declared.

”No,” Akechi stated simply.

”Looks more like a bird to me,” Yusuke mused, unaware of the battle of wills that was taking place right beside him. ”Or a tengu.”

”That's... even worse.” Akechi frowned.

”Maybe Bird is fine then,” Ann suggested.

”We don't _have to_ base it on the mask,” Akira tried to interject, but was drowned out by Ryuji talking loudly over him.

”Come on, you're all white. He's a Swan, obviously.”

”Crow,” Akechi said quickly. Ann was bemused, Yusuke approved, but Ryuji looked at him like he had told him he grew a second head.

”For real? Have you _looked_ at you? Crows are black.” When Akechi said nothing, he emphatically added: ”You're not.”

”Exactly!” Akechi said triumphantly. The fact that he was mainly met with confusion at this "brilliant" argument only seemed to fuel his conviction. ”It makes us harder to spy on, if it's less obvious to guess. Code names are supposed to mask your identity, right?”

The explanation was not the most convincing Akira had heard, and his first thought was that Akechi made it up on the spot, in an attempt to one up Ryuji by any means possible, no matter how contrived. Ryuji himself wasn't quite able to keep up, however, and Akira decided that it was good enough. It wasn't offensive, and Akechi seemed happy.

”Crow it is. Now let's get going.”

Once they had taken the stairs down and entered Mementos proper, taking a moment to look at the tracks that went nowhere and everywhere, it didn't take them long to run into their first Shadow. They pointed it out to Akechi, making sure to stay out of range until they were ready to take it on. They told him what to expect, then Akira briefly addressed the others to remind them to give Akechi a chance to try as well-

An otherworldly sound parted the air. They turned around, and saw Akechi holding a... laser sword? in his hand. The hilt was elegant, like that of a rapier, but where the blade should have been, there was only a shimmering blue ray of light.

Oh. Well, that certainly explained Iwai's amusement. Bewildered, Akira wondered why he even had something like that for sale in the first place.

“ _What is that_?!” Ryuji shouted (Akira instinctively glanced over his shoulder to make sure they weren't discovered while Morgana angrily shushed him), but Akechi was far too absorbed in his own world to take note. He tentatively swung the weapon. A dazzling, shadow-like afterimage followed the blade through the air, and Akechi watched the patterns he wove with almost childlike fascination.

Admittedly, Akira had had a passing interest in science fiction and may have found it just as cool had he not been preoccupied trying to figure out how the whole thing worked. After all, their weapons were effective due to how realistic they were, and Akechi's lightsaber was anything but.

“I'm sorry, did you say something?”

Akechi had finally turned his attention away from his weapon, though there was something different about him. Gone was the aloof and serious manner that usually clung to him like a sweater that was three sizes too small; instead, he could barely contain himself, constantly fidgeting excitedly. It was oddly adorable, and ridiculously out of character. No one could tell that this was the same boy that had pulled out a real, honest-to-God firearm without blinking one day earlier.

“Are you takin' this seriously at all?” Ryuji asked irritatedly.

“You told me it couldn't be real,” Akechi said innocuously. But now the innocence had turned sly, calculated, and even after witnessing his genuine joy Akira had a sinking feeling he had picked his weapon solely on the petty basis of provoking Ryuji. Great; the two of them had taken up annoying each other on purpose. As though Ryuji's and Morgana's not-always-friendly rivalry wasn't enough.

Though Akira wasn't entirely without blame. He had enabled him and told him to _go wild_ , after all.

Nonchalantly, Akechi added: “Besides, it's not like it's any less realistic than anything else in here. Children, given a fighting chance in the adult world? Now that's a fantasy if I ever heard one.”

He pulled a plastic-looking ray gun from a holster on his side. The sound and the look of the projectiles were just as plastic and ludicrous, yet undeniably real in this world. Akechi grinned widely, forgetting all about his need to antagonize Ryuji.

“Amazing.”

“Hey, as long as it works, I'm not going to judge,” Akira said when Ryuji turned to him with an offended grunt. As far as he was concerned, he only wanted Akechi to be able to defend himself, and if he needed a laser blade for that, then more power to him. In the end, no matter how serious they liked to fancy themselves, they all probably looked pretty ridiculous anyway.

“Seems fine to me,” Yusuke agreed. “His esthetic is... interesting.”

“That's probably a compliment,” Ann translated when Akechi raised an eyebrow. He retracted the blade, and hung the hilt at his side, next to the holstered toy gun.

“So what next?” he asked.

“Glad you asked,” Akira replied. Time to see what their newest teammate was capable of.

A few hours later, Akira's final assessment was _quite a lot_. They could bring Akechi to the Palace without concerns. And no matter how silly it looked, his laser weapons were just as hard-hitting as their own, realism be damned. Akira wondered if their prevalence in fiction somehow justified their damage, much like Morgana's ability to transform into a bus. But in the end, explanations were trivial, as long as the job got done.

They also finally got a better look on Akechi's Persona. It helped that the foes in upper Mementos were rather weak and posed a much smaller threat than Kaneshiro's security force. He was Loki, of the old Norse pantheon, and Akira made a mental note to check out the full story later. His exact appearance was somehow still something of a mystery, even with the closer look: the stripes running chaotically across his body were ridiculously hard to follow even when you weren't busy evading Shadows.

Also somewhat curiously, his natural element was curse, like Arsène. In the end any new element was a good thing, as it meant less weaknesses that Akira had to cover as the wild card of the group. And while Akechi initially was a little disappointed (did he feel like dead weight?) he quickly accepted the situation.

“I think we should start working on the Palace next,” Morgana said as they returned to exit. Akira agreed.

“When?” Akechi simply asked.

“As soon as possible,” Ann said without hesitation. “We need to get Kaneshiro off your back.”

“And miss Prez of ours,” Ryuji groaned.

“Who?”

“It's a long story,” Ann said. Akira took the cue and told him the abridged version. He told him about Shujin, how the president of the student council had approached them, her her request that they deal with whomever was blackmailing their students. By the end of it, Akechi was gaping.

“Wait, so you only decided to investigate Kaneshiro because... the president of your student council told you to? Are you all _idiots_?”

He looked absolutely flabbergasted.

“Hey, it's not like we want to,” Ryuji defended them. “She's got dirt on us, too!”

“Still, it's a good cause, isn't it?” Yusuke said. “From what the others have told me, she seems very protective of her peers. Even if her methods aren't honorable, we can at least help the students caught in Kaneshiro's clutches.”

“I suppose. But then why didn't she do anything about Kamoshida? ” Ann said, clearly not convinced. She hadn't overcome her grudge yet, but sighed and softened her tone. “But Yusuke's right. Maybe she's trying now.”

“That doesn't matter!” Akechi exclaimed. “If she's so worried, she could have investigated herself and _not_ sent more children into his hands!”

“Well, to be fair, we have powers and she doesn't,” Morgana said smugly.

“But if she has blackmail on you, you'll be completely at her mercy,” Akechi insisted. “She may be harmless now, but if she later decides to-”

“We'll cross that bridge when we get there,” Akira sighed, feeling a little tired. He didn't deny what Akechi said, but he had been over this so many times himself that there wasn't really anything more to add. Solutions didn't magically appear out of nowhere. “For now, we'll just have to do as we're told. The alternative is hardly better.”

Akechi sucked in a loud breath, and Akira could pinpoint the exact moment when self-awareness struck him. When he spoke, his tone was subdued, although the fire in his eyes refused to go out completely: “You're right. Sorry. I should know exactly what you're going through.”

“But we're going to fix it,” Morgana stated, confident. “Once we steal Kaneshiro's treasure and he confesses his sins, Akechi will be free and Niijima will leave us alone.”

Akechi laughed softly. “Yeah, you're right. It will solve all our problems rather neatly.”

Akira smiled. Was he imagining it, or was Akechi starting to sound less gloomy about his prospects to escape Kaneshiro? Why, if he kept it up like this, Akira might even believe him soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To quote a book that I didn't particularly like, "everything needs to change if we want it to stay the way it is". I had quite fun slotting Akechi into his canon Metaverse self (though part of it was merely happy coincidences in my planning) when pretty much everything needs to be recontextualised. I considered changing his code name, but this story will follow canon events fairly closely so I'm saving that for another, more canon-divergent day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the author rejoices as Makoto finally re-enters the plot, only to leave some 500 words later.  
> Once the Palace is finished I'll finally start looking a little at the other side of the swap, though obviously she'll become more important in the latter half anyway.
> 
> Small content warning for vague implications of suicidal thoughts, though I'd say it's up for interpretation. Also putting up the warning because we might return to similar themes later, although in vastly different contexts, so better safe than sorry I guess.

Their first serious foray into Kaneshiro's Palace didn't go as well as they had hoped. First they needed to find another way in, because the front door had been boarded since their last visit. Akira noted the pleased smirk on Akechi's face while he looked at the crumbling wall around it, the cracks from Loki's assault reaching far and greedily into the walls.

Fortunately they found an alternate entrance, and the infiltration was finally, _officially_ on. Kaneshiro's Shadow wasn't aware of their presence, and while the place was heavily guarded (it _was_ a bank after all) they were weaker than the guards they had faced before. The team tore through them with relative ease as they explored the building. Then they ran into the angels.

According to Morgana, they weren't very powerful on their own. The problem was their repertoire of spells. Aptly, they were aligned with blessings and light, making them the natural counter to Akira and Akechi alike. Unfortunately, while Akira could simply switch to a less vulnerable Persona, Akechi had access to no such luxury. Whenever he managed to get a hit in, he hit _hard_... but his efficiency was a two-edged sword, and they hit him harder than anyone else in return. Even knowing that, Akira was appalled to see him go from fully prepared to getting knocked out in a single spell. Like, properly knocked out and not just dizzy on the ground. One moment he was halfway through some particularly colorful language as he realized they were targeting him again, the next his knees buckled beneath him and sent him crashing to the ground, seemingly unconscious. Akira alarmedly ordered Morgana to get his prone, motionless form away from danger while he finished the encounter with Ann, Yusuke and Ryuji.

“Ugh, my head,” Akechi complained once Morgana managed to wake him up and hurriedly attempted to fix the damage. Fortunately, he seemed more embarrassed than seriously hurt when they returned to check on them. He fidgeted self-consciously and brushed some dust off his uniform, clearly not enjoying being put on display. “I didn't expect that...”

“Morgana's an excellent healer, you'll be up in no time,” Yusuke assured him. Akechi was quiet a moment, then blurted out:

“Can you die in the Metaverse?”

The topic was inherently morbid, and not exactly something Akira enjoyed dwelling on. Of course they had accepted that the Metaverse was... dangerous, but he had kept the more intrusive thoughts at bay.

Akechi must have realized how uncomfortable the question was, and made an attempt to stand, but Morgana scolded him for not letting him finish. The boy docilely allowed him to continue.

“And to answer your question... yes, you can,” Morgana said seriously. The eerie, pale light of the healing spell didn't make the statement any cuter. “As you can see, damage is easily dealt and healed in the Metaverse, but that doesn't make it all cognitive. If you get hit too much at once, you _will_ die. These are your real bodies, after all.”

He paused for a moment, letting the solemn statement hang in the air and sink in. Then the cat took a step away and nodded, and Akechi finally had permission to move again. He stretched and tried out his limbs, no worse for the wear. As usual. Akira reminded himself that nobody had come even close to dying so far and that it would stay that way.

“Well, it's good that we have Mona with us then. You're amazing at this,” Ann said, gratefully but nervously. The forced cheerfulness only indicated that she'd rather talk about something else. Morgana beamed from her praise nonetheless.

Akechi, who had already forgotten the brief moment he regretted bringing up the topic, proved himself incapable of taking a hint.

“What happens to the body then? Could people just be left here and... disappear?”

“Dude, are you _tryin'_ to sound like a serial killer?” Ryuji said incredulously.

While Akira was hesitant about questioning the way Akechi's mind worked, especially after seeing how self-conscious he had been yesterday, there definitely was something uncanny about the casual way he brought up these matters. Akechi blinked, reconsidered what he had said and laughed sheepishly.

“Ah, sorry, I'm being creepy,” he said, and Ryuji muttered in agreement. Akira cleared his throat loudly, having had enough of the demotivating train of thought, and once he had their attention they started moving again. They should probably have split into separate parties again, but at the moment moving in a single group seemed like the safer strategy.

He wanted to kick himself in frustration. Akira _knew_ that there was nothing to worry about, that no one was going to randomly keel over and die just because he turned his back on them for a while. They had plenty of experience, and Kaneshiro wasn't any worse than Kamoshida and Madarame had been. But thoughts like these were like lice, and the moment the image entered your mind, you already felt them crawling all over your scalp.

“I actually had a different thought in mind, however,” Akechi tried to explain himself, and Akira had to breathe deeply not to groan at his complete inability to sense the mood (or his ability to shamelessly ignore it). Akechi took a few moments to think, and Akira wondered if he was simply trying to cover up an actual lack of thought before he finally continued. “I mean, I know that you guys are doing... good things, but imagine if there was someone else with similar powers out there, with a different agenda. I can see a hundred ways to abuse the Metaverse, if you wanted to. And not just by killing them or disposing of them, but... if you can change people's hearts, can you change other things too? Could you somehow... intensify those same desires? Like, imagine if someone like Kaneshiro could do that at will. Or some other person in a position of immense power. Like a... politician, or something. They could commit what appear to be completely normal crimes, and no one would be any wiser.”

He looked around, and seem to interpret their stunned silence as having overstepped his boundaries. He tried to laugh it off. “Ah, sorry, there's no point in what ifs, is there...”

Truth was, without even knowing of the existence of the unknown Metaverse user that Madarame had spoken of, Akechi had independently arrived at the same conclusion that had lingered on their mind for quite some time. Akira knew that the others were waiting to see if he was going to bring up their knowledge of the mysterious intruder.

The discussion had to temporarily adjourned when they walked straight into an ambush without noticing and were forced to defend themselves. Unsurprisingly, moving around in one large and noisy group wasn't a very sound strategic decision. At least they made it out without casualties this time.

They worked their way through the floor in uneasy silence, and though it took a while they eventually reached a weakness in the cognition suitable for rest.

With Akira's tacit permission, Yusuke told Akechi what he they had found out from the confrontation with Madarame's Shadow. He listened intently with a frown that only grew deeper, and once they were done he thoughtfully brought up a hand to his chin.

“I see. Just as I feared, and we have no idea who this could be... Let's hope they're the only one.”

Tokyo was huge. For a moment, Akira was staggered by the naivety of believing that he could accidentally run into every single person with the potential to awaken a Persona. With millions upon millions of people surrounding them, of course he couldn't interact with every single one. But Igor had implied that even accessing the Metaverse was a privilege. Surely that must mean something? Except that they had _proof_ that there indeed was someone else out there already...

No. This was one of those things that he held no power over. They couldn't lose sight of their goal because of this.

“We'll have to look into it eventually,” Akira said quietly. “But for now, let's focus on Kaneshiro, shall we? We don't even have any clues to go on.”

Akechi nodded. “Fair enough.”

* * *

They spent the better part of the week trying to get through the Palace and secure the route to the treasure. Admittedly, Akira had a feeling that some incidents could have been avoided had they been a little more careful in their planning, and more than once they had been forced to back off due to engaging much too powerful Shadows without thinking it through, but what other choice did they have?

Thus, he was not going to pretend that he didn't feel immensely relieved the moment they walked into the dead end that contained the blurry, not yet manifested core of Kaneshiro's desires. Their deadline was cutting close, too close for his tastes.

They had only encountered the ruler of the Palace once so far, on the day they had accidentally taken Akechi along, but Akira was quite sure that they would have plenty of time to say their farewells before they could leave with the Treasure and end the whole affair. The most dangerous part was still left, after all.

“So this is the point were we send out the calling card?” Akechi asked excitedly once they were back in the real world. He was definitely the one of them that had enjoyed the whole spectacle the most: his excitement hadn't been restricted to his fantastical weapons, but even the smaller details of the Metaverse intrigued him endlessly. Not to mention that his way of fighting or even just moving gave Joker a run for his money when it came to flashiness. Ryuji would somewhat pejoratively refer to it as _dancing_ , but Akechi showed no signs of losing enthusiasm yet.

“Exactly,” Morgana said, already looking at Yusuke and Ryuji. “I trust the two of you will take care of it as usual?”

“Leave it to us,” Ryuji said and grinned.

“Akechi, do you have any idea how we can get it to Kaneshiro?” Morgana asked.

“I'll take care of that part,” Akechi promised. “He only needs to receive it and read it, right?”

“I'll come along!” Ann declared. Akechi tried to protest, but she stubbornly stood her ground. “It's better to leave it in public, and this way you won't take any unnecessary risks. You can't just walk up and give it to him!”

“I wasn't going to do that-”

“It's much better to leave them where lots of people can see them,” Morgana giddily agreed, his eyes shining at the thought of what was to come. “Their purpose is not only to manifest the treasure, but also to make sure that the public finds out about us! Then we'll get even more famous!”

“Doesn't that also increase the risk of being found out? The public will hear about it either way once it reaches national news, and believe me, it will,” Akechi asked, but his resistance wasn't that persistent. “Though I do know a few places where he'll be sure to hear of them once they're discovered. Don't worry about it.”

The next time they met up, this time for the heist itself, Akechi was once again wearing conspicuous amounts of makeup, much to the chagrin of Ann. As usually he only shrugged of their worries; he claimed he had attempted to snoop around to make sure that Kaneshiro indeed had received the news. He was inevitably discovered, but somewhat surprisingly he had “only been told to go away” _,_ in his own words. “They were much more concerned about the message than any actual damage. Anyway, it's a pretty good sign. I'm sure the treasure must have manifested by now.”

“Only you would consider a split lip a good sign,” Ryuji muttered, but it was a no time to seriously argue. They only had so much time before the effects of the calling card were voided.

* * *

Defeating Kaneshiro's Shadow was a challenge, but in the end they prevailed without any serious threat to their lives. Even Akechi managed to show some restraint in the end, though not before Akira had time to fear that his recklessness again would turn to their disadvantage. Any potential doubts about where Akechi's loyalties lay were smashed as mercilessly as the Shadow himself.

Like everyone else before him, the gangster tried making excuses, but he also confirmed the presence of the mystical Metaverse user, no doubt the same Madarame had asked them about. Unfortunately he offered no concrete leads either, and they didn't have much time to question him before they were forced to flee the collapsing world.

And just like that, all they could do was wait.

Akira hoped that the change of heart would manifest a little faster this time; they only had a couple of days left of the deadline Niijima had set, and the president had been persistent in checking out their progress. Akira was growing tired of the feeling of constantly having someone look over his shoulder. At least Akechi could report that the “reminders” of his debt had ceased, and that Kaneshiro had made no attempt to contact him since the successful heist. It didn't affect communication from other parts of the organization, though, and he had offhandedly complained about being awoken at ungodly hours, allegedly for “work”.

“You could try turning your phone off,” Yusuke helpfully suggested, but Akechi shook his head.

“I need to be available at all times. It's not worth it.”

Even though they had performed a change of heart twice already, the wait was still as nerve-wracking as ever. The stakes were high: if Niijima wasn't satisfied with the results, Akira would be arrested and expelled alongside Ryuji and Ann. While they did their best to pretend otherwise, he could tell they were worried. He wondered if she'd go after Yusuke as well. Curiously, the calmest in the group was without doubt Akechi, the newcomer. He seemed strangely at peace with the idea that he had done what he could and that his fate was out of his hands. On the other hand, he had been unreasonably chill about everything else no matter how absurd, so maybe this was just another mask.

Today, they had gathered at Leblanc for an impromptu study session. They didn't have any exams incoming, but they might as well tackle the wait together. While the others studied, Akechi sat at the counter sipping on some coffee. He had been unexpectedly called out for “work” in the afternoon, so his books had been left at home, but he did try and give a helping hand whenever the others got stuck on something (with the caveat that he was one year above them and thus less familiar with their current material).

“Why would they do that? Is there some work you can only do at night?” Ryuji wondered out loud. Beside him, Ann spluttered and almost spat out her soft drink all over the calculations she had been working on.

“Akechi, you're not...” She turned to Akechi in alarm, at which point Ryuji too understood what she was getting so worked up over. Even Yusuke looked up from the sketch block that he had been quietly engrossed in. Akechi bemusedly watched everyone's now incredibly concerned looks before it finally clicked to him what they were thinking of.

“No!” he almost shouted. “No, they're not forcing me to... sell my body or anything! Nothing like that!” Though Akira, who was cleaning up behind the counter, could have sworn that he added a “Yet” under his breath. He suddenly had an idea what Akechi had meant with “alternate payment” when discussing his debt, and why the boy preferred not to think about failing the deadline. The mere idea made Akira feel sick, and even more determined to keep him safe from Kaneshiro. If the change of heart didn't happen in time they needed to hide him away somehow, though that could prove difficult if everyone else was arrested first. Maybe he could stay at Leblanc...

“That's a relief,” Yusuke said. He cocked his head and watched Akechi, then added, seriously as ever: “Though you do have a very appealing look. Will you model for me some day?”

“Oi, you can't bring it up like _that_ ,” Ryuji sighed. “So why do they call you in the middle of the night, then?”

“I suspect they find it amusing,” Akechi said and shrugged. “It's only happened a handful of times, and it's never been anything of importance.”

“At least it will be over soon,” Ann said. “I mean, the messages stopped. It has to mean something.”

“It's consistent with Madarame's behavior. He most certainly changed long before the press conference,” Yusuke noted.

Akechi nodded. “Yeah. And that's not all. Kaneshiro's hasn't been seeing anyone the last few days, or so I've heard. It's nothing more than rumors, because nobody will be telling _me_ that kind of stuff, but considering everything else...”

“For real?” Ryuji leaned forward excitedly. “See, we got this! It will be just like the other times!”

“Of course it will,” Morgana said loudly. “So you should focus on school work, Ryuji! You haven't written a single kana in almost half an hour.”

The cat snickered. “Is it too difficult?”

“Hey, cut it!” With a scowl, Ryuji returned to the English essay in front of him, the tip of his pen ready against the empty paper.

Beat.

“So, uh, Ann, what's this about anyway? _Minister... to resi...gu... n-_ ”

“Just a moment,” Ann interrupted his heavily accented attempt at spelling out the headline of the newspaper clip that they had been tasked with summarizing.

“Akechi?”

Ryuji expectantly turned to the boy by the counter. The two might bicker in every other context, but school work had come to serve as an unexpected ceasefire. Ryuji had no trouble asking for help if that meant finishing faster, and Akechi was not only a good student but a show-off jumping at the opportunity to excel. Today, however, even he seemed to be at a loss. He frowned, and Akira could tell that he was bothered by having his ignorance exposed, even for something as trivial as this.

“It's about those rumors that the minister of traffic will have to resign,” Ann clarified as she skimmed the article. Akechi eagerly picked up the topic.

“Ah, of course. I didn't know foreign media had taken an interest as well. It's a rather intriguing affair, isn't it? The recent scandals have really brought attention all the areas he has been neglecting during his tenure, with uncanny precision. And then there's the matter of his eventual replacement, should a resignation occur. The Liberal Co-Prosperity Party have gained considerable support for their criticism of his explanations, and it wouldn't surprise me if they'll emerge the real victors from this whole scandal.”

“So it's like all politics?” Akira said. Even after spending some time with Yoshida, he wasn't that knowledgeable about the state of Japanese politics. Meanwhile, he had to admit that Akechi was _very_ well versed in current affairs. Not just how the systems and the institutions were constructed or the main players involved, but the intrigues as well, the analyses. Who benefited from what, who faced opposition from where, that type of stuff. He seemed overtly focused on the negative, though; maybe Akira should introduce him to Yoshida some day, see if that would convince him that not every adult was in it for themselves.

Akechi smiled patiently.

“Of course it's all conjecture at this point, but there are some... curious personalities among their numbers. Should they continue to rise in power, Japan will no doubt have an interesting future.”

“Man, after hearin' all that I'm even gladder to know that even people like you suck sometimes,” Ryuji said with a short laugh. Akechi, who clearly had more to say on the matter, instantly clamped up, subtly clenching his jaw at the interruption. While Akira knew it wasn't maliciously meant, Ryuji's jab had unwittingly hit some insecurity with impeccable precision.

“You're just jealous,” Ann teased him from the side.

“And it still beats anything you've accomplished so far!” Morgana piped up.

Even as Ryuji and the cat launched into another argument, Akechi remained uncharacteristically silent, his smile just a bit more strained than Akira had grown used to.

* * *

Two days later, Kaneshiro had turned himself in to the police. It wasn't a moment too soon considering their deadline, courtesy of Niijima. Akira found out from the television as he sat at the counter at Leblanc, shoving in some curry before he departing for school. Despite Sojiro's disgruntled protests he fumbled for his phone and texted the group chat before the news segment even ended. He received enthusiastic responses from Ryuji, Ann and Yusuke – Akechi laconically informed them that the news were accurate and then, in a just as brief personal message to Akira, that he'd like to see him later in the day. Akira assured him it was no problem.

Somewhat unexpectedly, the first person to approach him about the change of heart wasn't one of his teammates (though he did exchange knowing glances with Ann in the classroom), but the president of the student council herself. Niijima was waiting for him at the end of class and invited him to the empty council room. Only once he was seated and the door was closed did she smile faintly.

“Well, you did honor my request, Kurusu-kun. First I should thank you- no, all of you. You have no doubt brought justice to many of your fellow students where I could not.” Somewhat more thoughtfully she added: “Maybe your abilities will come in handy in the future as well...”

She seemed genuine in her sentiment, and Akira couldn't help but wonder if he had perhaps been off in his earlier assessment of her. But he also picked up on the last part of what she had said, and he already had a sinking feeling in his stomach before he asked about it.

“You won't consider our deal done yet?”

Morgana stirred in his bag, and two black ears peeked out of the opening in the zipper.

“Oh, don't misunderstand me. You did your part, and I'll do mine.”

Niijima demonstratively brought out her phone, then let him watch as she deleted the recordings, the photos, everything she had showed him back then. The folder was completely empty when she finished. “I'm not yet convinced about your methods, but our goals are mostly the same. I wish proper justice brought upon those who merit it. And as the president of the student council, I have so many responsibilities and so little power to enact any kind of justice.”

Akira couldn't help but think that there were simple ways of backing up files before deleting them. Did he even have the possibility to decline? But even if he had, what would it look like if he refused to help her when she only cared for the student's well-being? Wasn't that the reason they had founded the Thieves in the first place, to help?

“Tell me about it.”

“I'm glad to hear that” she said, sounding relieved. “I'll continue to listen to the students. If there is any matter that I can't handle on my own – and which fits your modus operandi of course – I'll call upon you. Consider it a secondary source of requests, beside those of Mishima-kun's website.”

He wished he could have said that he was shocked or even surprised to hear that she knew of the Phan-site, but Mishima hadn't exactly been... subtle about his support for the Phantom Thieves. For someone of Niijima's caliber, connecting the dots had probably taken an afternoon at most.

“I...” She hesitated a moment, then shook her head. “Never mind. You may leave; I shouldn't make you late for class. I'll find you later, alright?”

He was able to meet up with Ann and Ryuji for lunch, and while Niijima had made sure that they learned their lesson about discussing Phantom Thief business in public, they couldn't help but feel cheery about their recent success.

“It's like the atmosphere here is different already,” Ann said, looking at the students that passed them in the corridors. The overwhelming majority was, as expected, loudly chatting about the news of the arrest. “Even if I can't forgive her, I appreciate that Niijima came to us for help. It has brought hope to so many, I know it.”

Once school was over he headed over to Central Street to find Akechi. It had never occurred to him to ask where the boy went to school, but he presumed it was somewhere nearby because even when he came straight from the last class Akechi was already waiting for him at the Station Square. Akira spotted him leaning against a wall outside the Teikyu building, arms crossed over his chest. Even at a distance Akira recognized the telltale signs of the boy being lost in thought. Despite looking almost straight at them as they approached, Akechi was visibly startled when Morgana let out a friendly greeting.

“Ah, sorry! I didn't notice...”

He sheepishly collected himself.

“Well, you already heard the news, didn't you? It's total pandemonium in Kaneshiro's districts. He didn't just turn himself in – he must have given the police whole lists of names, ratting out his collaborators and partners in crime. They've arrested a handful already, and nobody knows who'll be next. They're scattering like rats on a sinking ship.”

“Are you alright then?” Morgana asked excitedly, beaming in triumph, and Akechi smiled cheerfully.

“Most of the people I... ah, _worked for_ will be too busy saving themselves to care about nobodies like me. As long as I don't go back there poking around, I doubt anyone will even remember me.”

“And you have no reason to do that anymore, right?” Morgana said. He hung over Akira's shoulders, his ears tickling Akira's neck. “I told you we could do it! The Phantom Thieves claim yet another victory!”

“So you do,” Akechi said warmly. “Well done.”

“You were part of it too,” Akira reminded him. “In fact, I doubt we'd have made it without you.”

Akechi let out a nervous chuckle, but his attempt to remain stoically unfazed by the recognition was thwarted by the way his smile grew just a little wider. The image was a far cry from the boy they had met at the beginning of their investigation. Yes, he could agree with Ann that taking down Kaneshiro had probably helped students all over Tokyo, but it was different to see the actual impact. For everything Akechi had been through the last weeks, months – all of it was over. There was a deep satisfaction, happiness even, in being capable of helping one's own as well.

“Thank _you_ ,” Akechi said. Slowly. Deliberately, as though he was searching for the words even as his mouth moved. “I don't think I'd ever have imagined any other life, had I not met you lot.”

“What will you do now?” Morgana asked.

Akechi didn't reply immediately. For a moment, his content expression gave way to something darker, and Akira couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. Was there something that still bothered him? He had mentioned something about _family drama_ when he joined them – was that the reason? But if they could deal with Kaneshiro, surely they could help him with that too, should it prove necessary...

Finally, Akechi shrugged.

“Everything will return to the way it used to be before, I guess.” Almost forcibly, he smiled again. “I can't say it enough: thank you. You might just be... the best thing that happened in my life, really.”

He almost choked up at the words, and Akira patted his shoulder encouragingly. Whatever troubles still remained in Akechi's life, it wasn't enough to overshadow the sheer gratefulness in his voice. Next to his neck Akira felt Morgana purr contentedly.

“Feel like going for some tea or something?” he offered. After the briefest moment of hesitation, Akechi nodded.

“...Sure.”

* * *

They spent about an hour discussing nothing in particular over some drinks at the diner. Akira wanted to ask the other if he'd be okay in his new-sorta-old situation, but he also recalled the shadow on his face when Morgana had first brought it up, and Akechi seemed so carefree for once that he couldn't bring himself to ask. Morgana was likewise enjoying himself.

Iwai had sent him a message about needing some help, so Akira figured that he might as well go since he was nearby. The next few hours passed by quickly even though he didn't do much other than clean up the shop and discuss the news of the day. The ex-yakuza was clearly confused by the recent events, and Akira did his best not to reveal exactly how much he knew.

Work went by a lot faster than either of them had expected, and Iwai told him to leave early. Right after he finished the shift and prepared to leave for the evening, his phone vibrated. It was Akechi, once again conveying his thanks for everything, this time directed towards all of the group. Once again he underlined just how fortunate their meeting had been (going as far as calling it _fate)_. Ann wrote a heartfelt reply, thanking him just as much, and even Ryuji and Yusuke were drawn in by the sentimentality. Akira figured that he must finally have settled at home.

Thus he was rather confused when he, as he walked towards the station building to get back to Yongen-Jaya, heard Morgana cry out in surprise from his bag.

“Was that Akechi?”

Akira saw nothing when he turned around. The cat insisted, however. “I know what I saw. He walked towards the underground area.”

“I though he left for home already,” Akira said, rubbing his neck thoughtfully. Did he have some business to take care of still? Or, a gloomier train of thought offered, maybe he really didn't want to go home, even after his ties to the mafia had been severed. Maybe he should have pried a little more into his family situation. Drop by drop, uneasiness pooled in his stomach.

Memories of Ann fleeing into the subway the day she had finally had enough of Kamoshida's advances came into his head uninvited, and his legs moved on their own. He had been given the key to Leblanc, so he could stay out a little longer. He told Morgana they'd see if there was something wrong and go home immediately once they found something, and his friend agreed.

Twenty minutes later they were still looking. Reluctantly, Akira stopped outside one of the shops in the underground mall and pulled out his phone. No activity, in the chat or otherwise, since the last message. Maybe he should just call him. He'd have considered the move clingy, but he was worried enough to give it a try anyway.

No signal. Weird.

Akira stared at the screen. Half an hour ago, Akechi had still been writing. Maybe he had simply run out of battery, if he hadn't properly charged it during the night but... it was suspicious. Too suspicious. Would he really have turned his phone off?

There was no way he could leave this be now. Morgana, who had been following the developments from his shoulder, didn't protest when he suggested that they checked around a little longer.

There was no guarantee that they were right. Akechi may not even have stayed in the area. But Akira had a _feeling_ , one of those small intuition things had become so frequent after he awakened his third eye. If Akechi didn't want to go home, wouldn't he loiter somewhere? If not, where would he go?

Another fifteen minutes later they were still none the wiser. Akira was almost about to reluctantly call it quits, and attempted to call Akechi once more, just in case. Still no signal.

Suddenly, Morgana jolted in the bag.

“Give me a moment,” he said breathlessly, and Akira felt the burden on his shoulder grow lighter in an instant. The cat jumped out and disappeared into the enormous crowds that passed by the square. He wasn't sure what the other was trying to do, so he remained in place, studying the people passing by in the absence of any more meaningful activity.

Just as suddenly as he had gone, Morgana returned, shouting his name.

“I found him,” he said before Akira could even ask. “He's in Mementos. Let's go.”

“...Mementos?” he repeated. “Why?”

Akechi had not indicated that he had any business to the Metaverse, and even if he had, this was the sort of matter that should be run by the group before anyone acted. Even if he wasn't looking to change a heart, the lower floors became increasingly dangerous the further you went, and though he was able to pull his weight just fine it didn't mean that he couldn't be surprised or ambushed by the fiercer Shadows. If you were alone, and stunned for even just a moment-

“I don't know, but we need to go _now_ ,” the cat insisted. “I'm not omniscient, I can't sense him if he goes too far!”

Akira had never been to the Metaverse with less than two companions since Kamoshida's castle, but there was no time to fetch the others. He made sure that no one was watching, then slipped into the Metaverse.

Morgana was already waiting for him, impatiently indicating the stairs down. Somewhat more puzzlingly, a roughed up backpack from the real word had been neatly put away in a corner of the room, alongside Akechi's briefcase. Akira looked at them, trying to put the pieces together, but Morgana demanded his attention.

“Come on! We can talk once I've transformed.”

On the bright side, Akira had a car and Akechi did not. Logic dictated that they'd catch up eventually with their greater speed. He was more concerned about the ever shifting nature of Mementos; they had realized early that there was no point trying to map the tunnels out because they never looked the same twice. Exactly how and at what time did it change? Was it possible that they could be cut off from Akechi entirely if they lost him? Not to mention that the area was huge, with an absurd amount of sharp turns and dead ends. What if they missed him?

“He's a few floors down already,” Morgana's voice came from the loudspeakers, and Akira nodded behind the wheel. He pressed the gas as far as he could, and attempted to maneuver around the Shadows rather than engage them. It wasn't the safest approach, and definitely a technique he needed to forget by the time he got his real world driving license, but somehow they were managing. Thank God it wasn't raining.

Just _what_ was Akechi doing down there?

“We're getting close,” Morgana told him when they descended the stairs and entered Ayatsabus. He once again transformed, and off they went, deeper and deeper into the tunnels. Akira saw something odd in the corner of his eye and slowed down to inspect.

There were fewer Shadows around here, and had a pretty good guess why. On the walls there could be seen deep, dark cracks, similar to those that Loki had left on Kaneshiro's bank the day of Akechi's awakening. Not only were they getting closer, but they were definitely in the same area.

Finally, after what felt like hours of driving, Morgana's ears perked. “This is it! He's somewhere around here!”

They could hear Akechi long before they saw him, and though it was good to have some confirmation about his status, the sound didn't inspire confidence. The sounds of battle echoed through the tunnels, carried to them on the otherworldly whispers, along with Akechi's frustrated snarls for Loki. Had he really rampaged his way down here? Because that was the last thing they needed. He tended to become much too single-minded when left alone, unable to focus on anything more than what was in front of him. It was dangerous enough when he was with the others; alone, however...

Akechi's cry was abruptly cut off.

“Hurry,” Morgana whimpered, and Akira didn't have to be told twice. Fortunately, after just one more turn they encountered the same Shadows that had brought Akechi down. He preemptively apologized to Morgana before running straight into them with the vehicle, and the violent contact was enough to defeat them.

He was rudely thrown out from his seat as Morgana transformed back and hurried to Akechi's side. Akira could only stand by the side, waiting for the boy to become lucid again so that he could explain just what the hell was going on.

Akechi awoke and propped up himself on his elbows while Morgana continued to heal him. His vacant, unfocused eyes eventually found Akira. He squinted before snorting weakly.

“Joker... And Mona. I guess I should thank you.”

“Yes, you should!” Morgana scolded him. “What was all that about!?”

Akechi sat up properly and inspected his surroundings. His gaze was everywhere but on Akira or Morgana.

“I just needed to get something out of the system,” he said, smiling apologetically, but they were far beyond the point when a gesture like that would be enough to placate Akira. For too long he had allowed Akechi to keep his secrets to himself, and this was how it had ended. Not only had he rushed off into Mementos alone, he had almost gotten into serious trouble doing so.

(People could _die_ in the Metaverse...)

“We need to talk.”

Akechi sighed heavily and deflated, though he didn't object.

“But not here,” Morgana said resolutely. “There's a waiting room nearby, let's go there.”

The silence was palpable as they drove back through the empty tunnels. Akira obviously wasn't about to say it out loud, but Akechi had done a thorough job in blasting his way through three floors on his own before he messed up the end. The Shadows this far up were weak enough that Akechi could rip them apart before they had the opportunity to strike back. Consequently, the ride back went smoothly and without interruption.

It didn't take them long to reach the waiting room. It was noisy, trains constantly coming and going, metal whining and slamming against the tracks, and one of the few things that could drown out the otherwise constant eerie murmurs. Not the optimal place for a heart to heart, but it would have to do.

“Akechi, what's going on? I don't understand,” Akira pleaded.

Akechi sat quietly on the seat opposite him, expression completely blank, and Akira realized that he had never seen him looking so... apathetic before. Not when warning them about Kaneshiro, not when talking about the physical abuse or the consequences of failing the deadline.

“I told you. I needed to... unwind. Nothing more. I swear I was going to stop after one floor. Maybe pick up some yen while I was at it, but I have savings. Not that they'll do me any good,” Akechi finally said, with a bitterness that also was new to Akira.

“...It's about money?” Akira said, baffled. Akechi had never mentioned financial troubles, other than the obvious.

Nothing made sense. Kaneshiro had confessed; Akechi didn't owe him anything now, there were no more threats looming over his head, and he had said himself that he could leave the mafia in the confusion that followed the sudden police investigations. So why was he sitting in Mementos, looking like his life was about to end?

 _Didn't you think there was something odd about the way he acted around you_? a tiny voice spoke up at the back of his mind. It didn't belong to any Persona. It was Akira's own voice, and it was disappointed because he had never tried put together all those small moments (and they were many) to see if there was a bigger picture.

"I lied," Akechi said. Like it explained everything. Akira waited for him to continue, but Akechi had retreated back into his own thoughts again.

“I'm afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” Akira replied. The levity wasn't intentional; nevertheless, Akechi seemed to find it amusing, a tiny splash of emotion on an otherwise empty canvas.

“Everything. I don't even know where to begin.”

“What's keeping you from going home and forget about everything? Is that why you were so reluctant to help us, if you were in debt?”

Silence.

“I don't have one,” Akechi finally replied. He didn't seem all there when he continued: “I... I'm an orphan. I've never known my father, and my mother killed herself when the shame became to much to bear. For as long as I can remember, I've lived in different institutions around Tokyo. But I turned eighteen last month, so even if I hadn't run away, they've washed their hands of me already.”

“Akechi...” Morgana, who had so far been sitting quietly in the seat next to Akira's, looked at him with huge, sad eyes. Akechi gave him no acknowledgment.

“Anyway, you wanted to know about Kaneshiro? It's not like I was any more honest about that. I was still a second year back then. I was... not in a very good position to mess up, and I guess it was partly my own fault. I'm not a very pleasant person to be around. But I tried, I had to focus on excelling in school, and even just breathing wrong could have had me expelled.

“Then, one day, I got into trouble in Shibuya. Just a few classmates who attempted to bully me for my background. It was nothing i couldn't handle but... Somebody related to Kaneshiro must heard it and taken an interest. I was approached by some shady guy shortly after. I told him no thanks like all the grown ups had told me I should...” He snorted. “And then some random schmuck at school outed my supposed 'drug business' anyway. I heard they even found drugs among my things, but if that's true, it was just wasted effort on their part.” He laughed dryly. “They would have taken any reason to expel me. I had a _reputation_."

Akira knew that powerlessness well, but the ease with which Akechi narrated it was painful. In a way, Akira had to admit that one of the reason the story was so terrifying was because it was everything he had feared about his situation at Shujin. It was proof that yes, the adults weren't joking when they said that things could get worse. And no matter how unfair the idea of having to rely on second chances that were little more than alms from the sanctimonious with no interest in his success, not having any at all... was infinitely worse.

"To the surprise of absolutely nobody, they did expel me.” Akechi might as well have talked about a new cafe he had visited, or the weather. “My part time job conveniently found out about it, too, and I was fired. At the institution they told me to get out, and if I did they wouldn't take it to the police. So there I was, with no place to live, no school, no job. But Kaneshiro's gang was still there... and it wasn't like someone like me would get anything better. I had to take it. There was no debt, no blackmail – no one survives for that long under those circumstances. I chose to work for them from the beginning."

He chuckled, but the sound was hollow. The way Morgana was staring horrified would have been hilarious under any other circumstances. His round, mascot-like features never looked serious enough for that kind of expression, like he in childlike wonder simply wasn't made for it.

"Well, Kaneshiro did make up _a_ debt so that he'd have a reason to get rid of me, that's why I had to come to you. That part was real. And now he's gone. I'm a high school dropout with no recorded work history and no family register. Either I go find whoever replaces him, or I just... you understand, don't you? But when you guys showed up, I got this _stupid_ idea that I could be something more than just that, and now I can't go back, I don't _want_ to!"

The first emotion to appear after the apathy was unmistakeable _anger_ , his face twisted into a scowl so venomous that Morgana yowled. Akechi took a deep breath, giving Akira the tiniest moment to adjust to the abrupt mood change, before continuing:

“Why? Why are you... doing this to me? Do you want to be heroes that badly? Running around with your stupid _toy weapons_ and looking down on me for knowing how to use the real thing! You get everything I wanted without even trying when I've spent my entire life working my ass off and I get _this_ , even when you go out of your way to be an idiot about it! You're just like the others. Do you have any idea how many people I participated in ruining? I don't feel bad for a single one of them, because they were just as moronic as you! So what... is so special about you...!?”

It went against Akira's instincts to do nothing but sit there and take the verbal abuse. At first, he had been stunned, even felt slightly threatened by the sudden aggression, yet he couldn't help but feel strangely fascinated to be allowed to watch as the facade _finally_ crumbled after all the feigned control and indifference. It wasn't the healthiest way of coping he was sure, but he almost felt a bit guilty at the thought of interrupting now that Akechi was actually speaking his mind for once.

The brunt of the outburst seemed to have passed, and Akechi was glaring at him (truly glaring this time; it wasn't an attempt at intimidation, only sheer contempt). More than that, he was waiting. Waiting for Akira to react, daring him to pass judgment over his confession (he never mentioned outright killing someone but with Kaneshiro's record, who knew what the preferred outcome was anyway).

“...Feeling better?” he finally offered, trying not to sound too patronizing, and winced when Akechi seemed to take it exactly that way.

“What the _hell_ 's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you've spent the last two weeks pretending to be fine whenever we asked, I figured you might need the break.”

“I don't want your goddamn pity.”

“Well what _do_ you want then?” Akira snapped. “Because I'm starting to think you have no idea.”

Akira knew enough about the world to know that he shouldn't take the power of society lightly, but since he met the gang and discovered the Metaverse, he had felt a certain... hopefulness. Guaranteed proof that things _could_ get better, as long as you didn't give up.

But here they were. They had done everything right, and somehow it hadn't solved a single thing, or at least not for Akechi. Their work hadn't been in vain, of course; Akechi was not the only one stuck in Kaneshiro's selfish schemes, and the majority of the students he had victimized would no doubt be relieved to return to their life as it had been before. Akechi, on the other hand, somehow ended up in a _worse_ situation, depending on how you viewed it. And he had known it, he had only joined them because the alternative was worse still. Now all the times he had spoken of changing Kaneshiro's heart with a smile seemed like a mockery of the job they thought were doing.

It was a lesson that Akira didn't want to acknowledge, which spit in the face of everything they had presumed about their work as Phantom Thieves so far: there were problems that even changing hearts couldn't solve. They weren't as invincible as they had felt, and from now there would always be a part of him that worried. That _doubted_. (How many others like him, who had only gone from one bad situation to another, and whom they couldn't save because how could they know...?)

Akira was angry, appalled, he was upset, he was every single word in the thesaurus that was listed between them. At society for deliberately ignoring the cracks in the system that consumed those less fortunate; hell, for _creating_ them in first place; at people like Kaneshiro who took advantage of their apathy; at every single adult who had been in Akechi's life and refused to intervene; at himself for not asking the right questions. And at Akechi, for...

”I want you, out of my life,” Akechi spat. ”You got what you needed, I'm _saved_ , you've clearly done enou-”

”Then why did you stay with us at all? Didn't you just say you don't want to go back to that life?”

...for thinking they wouldn't care? Maybe Akira was simply selfishly offended that his friendship was taken so lightly. Or maybe it wasn't anger as much as screaming worry.

”Do I need to spell it out to you? It doesn't matter what I want, I can't _have_ anything else.”

”God, and you thought _I_ was stupid!” Akira exclaimed. Akechi sucked in an offended breath, but Akira wasn't done yet, though he did force himself to calm down a little. ”Listen. If you leave us, of course you won't have anything, because you'll be all alone. Or you could stay, and we'll help.”

”Kaneshiro's gone, you don't need me anymore,” Akechi insisted. He shook his head. ”And you know what I'm like now. I meant what I said. I don't care-”

”Did you seriously think we were going to kick you out once we were done with Kaneshiro?” Akira asked, flabbergasted at the sheer audacity of the implied accusation. ”Nobody has even considered that! When people are in, they stay. Everyone _expects_ you to stay.”

”That's right!” Morgana backed him up.

”I've hurt people. I'm nothing like you.”

”Then you can starting making up for that by _not_ creating any more victims at least!”

Akechi had no answer to that, or at least nothing he wanted to say out loud, and Akira stopped to collect himself.

Well. He could concede that not all problems could be solved with a change of heart. But that was not all he had at his disposal.

“I'm with Joker on this one,” Morgana agreed. “We can help! If you don't have anywhere to go, you can come stay at our place! Right?”

“Is it really that simple to you?”

“I mean, it's more than you have right now, right?” Akira asked, still trying to work out something that could pass as a plan. ”Sojiro won't ask, it' not the first time, and then we'll figure something out...”

Akira had contacts. Plenty of them, all over Tokyo. Ryuji and Ann, even Yusuke must be able to contribute something. He wasn't going to give up, not when they had come so far already.

He wasn't going to give in to the helplessness again.

“I was shouting at you just a minute ago,” Akechi reminded him condescendingly, as though he had already forgotten, and it took Akira all his self-restraint not to roll his eyes.

“Yeah? Yusuke tried having us arrested. You'll have to up your game a little if you're trying to scare us off.”

Akechi opened his mouth, but no words came out. Until...

“...You don't even know me.”

But by now, it sounded like he was trying to convince _himself_ more than Akira. Maybe that was the problem from the beginning. And in spite of all the other lies that had been exposed left and right, Akira still found it inconceivable that Akechi, after everything he had displayed the last week, hadn't enjoyed their company at all.

“After two weeks of phantom thievery that's not going to fly, _Goro_ ,” Akira said and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I've heard slumber parties are great for the morale.”

“Is that a date?” Goro weakly joked, but at least he was looking at him now. Nor did he protest at the use of his first name.

“Whatever you want it to be if it gets you there, I guess.”

Goro laughed.

“There just one thing I want to make clear before that,” Akira said, returning to a more serious tone. “A rule, if you will.”

The moment the words left him, Akira realized that it was the wrong thing to say. Instantly, Goro's smile grew strained, he tensed up. But the transition was natural, like it had only been hiding beneath all other emotions, waiting for the right time to burst forth. Like _he_ had waited for it.

Akira was completely thrown off his game. His carefully planned words faded, and only confusion remained. “It's nothing serious” he said with the hint of a stutter, forcing himself to focus. “But really, don't go alone into the Metaverse again. It's seriously dangerous.”

Goro waited expectantly. When Akira didn't say anything more, uncertainty crept into his expression.

“That's it?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. It wasn't supposed to be some grand statement or anything, I just... wanted you to know. I'm not telling you you can't go there for your own reasons, just... ask someone along at least, okay?”

“He's right, you know,” Morgana said. “We're in this together.”

“Of course.” The response sounded a little too automatic for Akira's tastes, but he also didn't want to press the point further.

In the end, the awkwardness may have been a good thing. The tension never recovered from the blow, and thus when Morgana suggested that they leave and go home, no one really protested.

Baby steps.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I need to rewrite this thing at some point. I wrote the first draft months ago, and I've been rewriting and adjusting it ever since, all the way up to the proofreading, and I'm getting a bit sick of it.
> 
> Some musings since I've made it past the first save point, so to speak. One of my reasons for starting this story was basically going "and what if Akechi awakens at the same time as the others, rather than much earlier and on his own?". He hasn't completely screwed himself over yet, simply due to lacking the means, so now we're left with a rather angry and not particularly empathic boy who actually has people to rein him in this time. Meanwhile, Makoto will go through the opposite process, basically removing all decent people in her life. I don't intend to make her a carbon copy of canon Akechi, but I want to follow the same themes that I found central in the game, in particular the importance of having support when things get harsh.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which people try to be helpful while Goro resists with all his might.
> 
> Finally! I've been ridiculously busy the last few weeks, and whenever I do have time to write I have another story siphoning my efforts. Because I have said nothing of the sort so far: to anybody hanging along for the ride, thank you for the company and support. I'm hoping you find an interesting idea or two scattered around in return for your attention.
> 
> I don't really consider myself a good writer, and I'd go as far as saying that actually writing is my least favourite part of writing - I mainly write out of my love for reading, as odd as it may sound. But 'least favourite' is still part 'favourite', right?

“Is this becoming some kind of tradition among your friends?”

As Akira had expected, Sojiro was a little bemused but not against the unexpected arrangement. Of course, it wasn't like he knew of the circumstances behind the move. Most likely he thought that Goro, like Yusuke, simply was in need of some space he couldn't get elsewhere, and that he would be gone in a day or two. And going by the minimal amount of packing that Goro brought with him (even less than Yusuke), it was a fair assumption.

Goro, as it turned out, had very few belongings that he bothered moving around. With just his plain briefcase and a small backpack, he looked like someone arriving at an informal get-together rather than a person in urgent need of residence. Even so he insisted that he had all he needed, and what little remained was back in a apartment in a part of Tokyo that they probably should stay out of henceforth.

Well. Akira had invited Goro, not his furnishings. As long as none of his socks mysteriously started to go missing, Akira didn't care.

He knew that they couldn't dodge explaining the situation forever. At some point he'd need to inform Sojiro exactly why Goro was in need of a place to crash. He suspected that the boy himself was the type who'd prefer to be back on his own, but as long as he didn't have a job, those plans were little more than daydreams. And independence might prove... challenging, considering his brutal circumstances. Maybe they should focus on getting Goro back in school instead. He could ask Kawakami. She was a teacher, she had to know what to do...

Akira just didn't know this kind of stuff. He was seventeen and barely knew what to do after high school! They needed an adult, and he desperately hoped that Sojiro would be willing to provide that, because if he didn't, things would get infinitely more complicated.

But not today. The day had been long enough as it was, and Goro would probably run away if Akira as much as breathed about it. At least they'd have a few days before Sojiro begun to wonder why the guest wasn't leaving.

Goro bowed, and his smile was as charming as ever. “I'm very grateful, Sakura-san.”

Sojiro chuckled. “It's no problem, really. It's good to see that the kid's got such well-behaved friends. Might keep him on the straight path.”

...Yeah, so today probably wasn't the day to inform Sojiro that Goro, albeit lacking a true criminal record, had dropped out of school for a “career” in drug smuggling for the mafia.

Instead, Akira quickly excused them, claiming to be tired. They retreated to the attic, stubbornly pretending that neither of them had caught that last part.

“It's not much, but there should be enough space,” Akira said, surprised to find himself so self-conscious when he noticed Goro scrutinizing his quarters. That was right, he hadn't been all the way up here before, had he? Had Akira even had the slightest inkling of the events that were to come (though no one could fault him for _not_ predicting it), he might have attempted to clean up a little before leaving in the morning.

“It's not bad at all,” he insisted. He left the baggage on the table and sat down on the couch. “You're sure this is okay? I don't want to intrude-”

“Goro, I think your need for accommodation is more urgent than my embarrassment at being exposed as the lazy slob that I am,” Akira argued.

Goro still looked bothered, and Akira wanted to kick himself when he realized that his attempt at lighthearted conversation had probably had the opposite effect, making him believe Akira had made his offer out of obligation.

He tried again.

“Listen. I like you. Morgana likes you.” As long as Ann didn't give him too much attention. “Sojiro likes you more than he likes me, I think! Nobody thinks you're a bother.”

“... I know.”

At least he had the decency to look vaguely guilty for the obvious lie. Before Akira could call him out on it, he added: “Anyway, I won't impose any more than necessary. You won't even notice I'm here.”

Akira frowned.

“That's a pity. I like your company. I didn't invite you here just to stay in a corner and look pretty. I could get posters for that.”

Goro blinked, then let out an amused snort.

“Then please don't take it personally when I say that I'll be leaving soon.”

“Hey, I get it, not everyone wants roommates. But you don't need to do it for our sake.”

“I'm not- never mind.” Somewhat awkwardly, he added: “Thank you.”

The conversation died out. Morgana grasped the opportunity to remind them that it was late and suggested that they go to bed. Akira humored him; he wasn't exactly wrong, and as always school awaited in the morning. He showed Goro where to brush his teeth and where he could leave his unpacked stuff until they found a better place for it.

Seeing as the whole arrangement had been rather ex tempore, there had been nowhere else for the guest to sleep other than the couch. Akira almost felt ashamed for having to offer it: the thing was old, and while it was decent enough to sit on, when sleeping it became a completely different beast. Not only was it hard enough that an actual rock might be an improvement, but even Ann had to curl up a bit in order to fit. Suffice to say that someone of Akira and Goro's height wouldn't have a good time on it. Crippling ailments such as cricks in the neck and a sore back were more or less guaranteed. Akira had halfheartedly offered to take it for himself, but Goro had smiled and insisted that no such thing was necessary because, apparently, “he had slept on worse”. Considering who was talking, Akira decided to believe him and shut up, and the next day they could go looking for a futon or something.

Time passed, and sleep remained frustratingly elusive. God, he just couldn't fall asleep after today, could he? Maybe there was still some stray adrenaline floating around in the system. Was Morgana's snoring always this loud?

“Hey... Akira?”

He shouldn't be surprised he wasn't the only one awake. Akira turned around to look in the direction of the couch though he couldn't make out much in the dim light.

“Yeah?”

“...You're going to see the others tomorrow, right?”

“It might be difficult to avoid. We go to the same school.”

“Could you... not tell them about today?”

In the darkness, nobody could see him raise a tired eyebrow, but the bemusement was just as real nonetheless. Just a bit dulled by the lack of sleep. He could be properly confused in the morning.

“I suppose.” He tried, he really tried holding it in, but he couldn't help himself, and added: “You know they won't look down on you for-”

“I know,” Goro interrupted, too quickly. He sighed. “I don’t like- It's not about that.”

There was a pause, almost long enough to make Akira think that Goro had fallen asleep there and then (or just pretended to). Eventually, the other added: “We can do it later. I just need to prepare. Get used to the idea...”

“Uh huh.”

Akira wondered if Goro had any idea just how big a favor he was trying to call in. Of course Ann and Ryuji would want to talk about the aftermath of Kaneshiro's arrest, and considering Goro's (former) ties to him it would be impossible to avoid the subject without arousing suspicion.

Well. He could deal with that tomorrow.

* * *

As it turned out, Akira was a late sleeper.

Goro took care in being as quiet as possible as he swung his legs over the edge of the couch so that he wouldn't awake the boy or the cat sleeping in the early sunlight, grimacing as he felt a mild soreness settle into his body. He tiptoed across the attic and went down towards the café so that he could access the bathroom. It was early, so he figured that he'd have some time before Sakura showed up. If he hurried, he could sneak out of the café before anyone else arrived, and pretend that he was at school.

Unfortunately, by the time Goro was ready to leave, Sakura had already arrived at the café and was busying himself with whatever baristas did behind the counter.

“Just a moment, I'll get you some coffee,” he promised once he noticed Goro.

“Oh, that's not necessary,” Goro replied. Not without a certain regret; he had only tried Akira's work so far, and it was decent; Sakura's was supposedly leagues better.

“That wasn't a question,” Sakura stated, and motioned for him to sit down. “I'd give you some breakfast, but you'll have to wait a little longer. The kid usually gets up last minute.”

Goro hesitated, but did as he was told. He didn't know much about Akira's guardian yet or how he should be behaving around him, so it might actually for the best that he observed him for a while.

Goro tried to start up a discussion, the kind that usually went well home with the adults. He touched on the weather, the news that were running in the background, even tried complementing him on his café before he concluded that Sakura was the type that preferred silence. It was a nice change. If he didn't say anything, he couldn't ask questions either.

At some point, he noticed that Sakura was staring at him, and the warning bells started to ring. He knew that hesitance. The man wanted to say something he shouldn't, something that might be overstepping his boundaries. Goro carefully kept up the pleasant smile even as his stomach turned.

“Is something wrong?”

But he didn't reply immediately, and the barista was looking just a little too closely at him for Goro to feel comfortable. Despite Akira's assurances that Sakura wouldn't question his presence, he couldn't help but feel that there was indeed a problem in the room.

Most likely, Goro himself.

“Hey, kid. There's no easy way to say this, but it's not like I'm gonna leave it unaddressed...”

Was he that transparent? Had Sakura already figured out-

“Is the abuse the reason you're staying here?”

He blinked.

“I'm sorry?”

“You heard what I said,” Sakura said, before softening a little. “I'd love to hear that I'm wrong, so go ahead. Tell me. Just remember that I have no problem lodging you if you need it.”

“I...”

His thoughts were racing. Why would Sakura even begin to suspect something like that? Goro had only met him in passing before, and the few times the Phantom Thieves had met at Leblanc they had been alone. He had carefully covered up the few remaining visible bruises this morning too. Had Akira told him? But Akira was upstairs, stuck in a sleep that seemed about as rousable as death itself; he could impossibly be the culprit.

Never mind, maybe he had slipped up. He had had a lot to think about. The more important matter was, why did Sakura want to know?

“That's not a no, Akechi-kun,” the man said, concern creeping through his otherwise gruff demeanor as the seconds passed, and the frown on his face only deepened in the ensuing silence. Goro could lie, he probably should, dishonesty was second nature to him by now, as was self-preservation. Akechi had hoped that he'd find somewhere else to be before they reached that stage, but, well, here they were.

“It's not a problem anymore,” Goro firmly insisted. He wasn't going back, and even if he was, most persons who'd have a reason to lay a hand on him had probably been arrested already due to their connections to Kaneshiro.

Sakura shook his head. “Can you at least tell me if it's your family? Classmates? ...Girlfriend?”

“Neither,” Goro answered truthfully and with growing frustration. Why wasn't it working? Generally, not acknowledging the problem would have adults falling over themselves at the excuse to leave it be. Society dictated that you shouldn't stick your nose into other people's businesses, especially something as _delicate_ as this, but Sakura just couldn't help himself. And if he continued to pry, Goro would most definitely be forced to lie. He couldn't tell him about the mafia or the drugs, that he was homeless and disgraced and disowned and orphaned...

There was no way his hospitality would last long after that, and Goro had already started liking it here. He should have been more reserved, more detached, but once again he had allowed Akira to convince him-

Sakura sighed. His patience must be wearing thin. It always did. “Listen, you can stay as long as you need. That's not it. I'd just like to know why your family isn't intervening.”

“I don't have one,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “I live on my own.”

Or at least he used to.

“Ah.” Sakura's eyes widened slightly in realization. The next moment he was apologetic, rubbing his neck awkwardly with sympathetic understanding. “Sorry,” he finally said. “Just... stay as long as you need, okay? And... if you need help, just ask. I know the kid means well, but some problems are much easier dealt with with an adult at your side, you know?”

“Of course. I will.” Now _that_ was a lie if anything.

Sakura fortunately left him alone after that, though Goro could still feel him glance in his direction occasionally. He focused on the coffee that Sakura had finally remembered to give him so that he'd have a reason not to engage.

He had to agree with Akira: though he was decent at making coffee and certainly capable of producing better stuff than Goro ever could, he didn't hold a candle to Sakura – which was understandable, seeing as Sakura was the professional and Akira, at most, an apprentice. He made sure to praise Sakura lavishly, and while the old man tried playing coy Goro didn't miss his confident smirk.

Somehow, Akira wasn't up yet. At closer thought, Goro determined that it was for the best – the other boy's presence might just spark more discussion about Goro's non-existent life. Instead, he got up, thanked Sakura once more for his hospitality, and got ready to leave. For what, he didn't quiet know yet; he was no stranger to pretending that he still had routines to adhere to, but this was the first day that the pretense wasn't necessary to cover up his actual job. In fact, he figured that he would probably do best in avoiding Shibuya for a couple of days at least.

“Leaving so early?” Sakura asked. “Is your school far away?

Goro nodded and hummed, though the question left him uncomfortable. His fears were proven justified as Sakura curiously continued:

“Where do you go to school?”

If he hesitated now, he'd give himself away. Before he could think properly, he found himself blurting out the name of his old school – the one he had been expelled from over a year ago.

Goro wasn't comfortable sharing anything about his life that might actually have consequences. Unfortunately that definition included a rather broad period of time and covered almost every event in his life so far.

But of course Sakura wouldn't know about that.

“That is quite a bit away. Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you later then.”

Goro could hardly contain his relief as the door closed behind him and he finally got out of sight of the nosy barista. While the gnawing anxiety that he had said too much kept him from relaxing completely (not that he had had any choice...), it was a clear improvement. He hadn't even noticed the full extent of his emotions – there was something oddly calming about the café, and for that Goro was thankful. He'd need any advantage he could get in that place. He needed to play his cards just right until he, as soon as possible, could become self-sufficient again.

He told himself that he had already lost everything once, and survived. But back then, he had had a plan. A lousy one, sure, one that required him to throw away every bit of dignity he had managed to preserve through his adolescence as he willingly sought out the very fate he had tried to escape. One that was little more than struggle and abuse. But also one that at least gave him the impression that he was still in control of whether he lived or died, as disingenuous as the idea may have been. Every morning he got out of bed back then had been a choice, a choice to bite down and take the pain just to spite those who would be more convenienced by his disappearance.

What were his choices now?

At a cursory view, it seemed there were none. That Goro was truly stuck at the mercy of others, however long that lasted, but of course that was untrue. Circumstances were a matter of fate; what you did with them were not. When you were left with nothing, you had to make do anyway. If he couldn't rely on charity, he needed to turn the situation around and make use of it, control it, for as long as he could. But that was easier said than done, especially if he got himself carelessly thrown out and ended up destitute first.

He leaned back against the wall in the narrow alley and sighed. He shouldn't romanticize that year, no matter how proud he was for surviving. The very first thing Loki had required of him, in order to even consider the contract, was that he finally _grow up_ and take his life back. Children were but playthings to the old, to be manipulated as they wished, and Goro refused to be part of it. That included Kaneshiro, and thus he had rejected that fate the moment his Persona manifested.

It also included those who'd attempt to control him through less violent means. Goro needed to throw off all those bonds forced upon him, before he suffocated.

_Doubt not thy strength_ , his Persona reminded him. Loki could be deceivingly soft-spoken, with endless amounts of patience forced by necessity rather than virtue. Each second added to centuries of unheeded rage, like raindrops embraced by the ocean. _Nobody is at their strongest when restrained. But with persistence, even the chains at the end of the world shall break._

Goro drew a deep, steadying breath. Right.

It was a daunting task to be sure, and he almost balked at the sheer impossibility of it. But he'd pull through, he had to.

Even if he needed to break a few more bonds to get there.

* * *

Akira had never been one to sleep excessively (in spite of Morgana's best efforts) and he seldom overslept for real, but he was beginning to suspect that Yusuke and Goro had bonded together for the sole purpose of making him feel like a lazy slob with their early morning routines. He found out that not only had Goro already gotten out of bed (well the couch – and actually Akira probably would have wanted to get away from that thing as soon as possible, too) but also left the café, and the only proof that last night had even happened was the luggage still residing on the table.

Sojiro seemed more distant than usual, and said nothing as he served his Akira the usual breakfast.

“Did Goro leave already?”

“Huh?” Sojiro stopped fiddling with the dishes, looking startled. “Uh, yeah, his school is quite far from here. You could take example from him. Doesn't class start in half an hour?”

“I know what I'm doing,” Akira insisted, making a bid for the position as the second best liar currently residing in the café. So Goro had told Sojiro that he was still in school – though it wasn't like Akira had expected anything else. He had a feeling that if the other boy could have it his way, not even Akira would know.

“Well, that's good to hear,” Sojiro admitted, before looking at him sternly. “Still, you need to prove it too, okay? No repeat of that first day incident, you hear me?”

Okay, so claiming he got lost that first day when he discovered the Metaverse with Ryuji hadn't worked out all to well. But telling his guardian that he had somehow stumbled upon a strange cognitive world and almost gotten himself killed before awakening mysterious powers would have gone over even worse, so he had to claim his late arrival was due to getting lost on the way. There had been a minor incident the day before that in the subway, but since the trains were already running perfectly on time when Akira was supposed to get going he had had nothing to blame other than “his” poor sense of orientation. He could only pretend that the accident had scared him straight.

Still, it reminded him that while Sojiro might be fair, he was also quick to admonish him for stepping even slightly out of line. He felt a little troubled by the promise he had given Goro last night in Mementos. Yes, should push come to shove Akira had absolute confidence in that the man wouldn't leave a homeless teenager to fend for himself on the street. But if they approached him first, explained the situation before Sojiro had time to jump to conclusions, it could ease the relationship. He already seemed to have taken a liking to Goro, so it would be a pity and gamble it away so hastily for distrust on both sides!

Of course, Akira was not so eager as to go behind Goro's back to do this, and convincing the boy to go along was the inevitable first step.

* * *

“Man, did you watch the news last night?” Ryuji asked excitedly during lunch. He hadn't eaten anything yet due to mainly using his hands to gesticulate wildly to underline his points, chopsticks still between his fingers. “We're famous now!”

“I never thought I'd see the day when Ryuji gets excited about the _news_ ,” Ann remarked.

“Oh, what did they say?” Morgana's head popped up from Akira's bag, eyes shining at the prospect of recognition.

“How did you miss it?” Ryuji asked in disbelief. “It was on every channel!”

“We were busy,” Akira said neutrally, exchanging a warning glance with the cat. “Iwai wanted some help, and we were rather tired by the time we got back.”

Technically correct. He just left out the part about Mementos and that they where three rather than two returning.

“Well, it was really only the news of the calling card breaking,” Ann replied, fortunately not questioning his story. It was obvious that she too was more interested in what had been said about them last night.

“Sheesh, _only_. They made this huge deal about how the police couldn't to a thing, and then we swept in just like that!”

“Well, we are amazing,” Morgana purred. “We should plan another celebration! For a job well done.”

“Yeah, we should!” Ann agreed enthusiastically. “And we have a new member, too. Should we ask Akechi what kind of event he'd like?”

Before anyone could ask Akira for his opinions, thereby putting him in the precarious situation of deciding how (if at all) to cover for Goro, he was saved by the bell – also known as Makoto Niijima.

Technically, it was a boy whose name Akira couldn't recall at the moment; Niijima had sent one of her fellow councilors to ask for his presence, and the poor student was forced to awkwardly stand around as the mood noticeably soured in the group. As a kind of incognito thank you for freeing him from a potentially tight spot, Akira promised to be there as soon as he could and encouraged the boy to leave, an opportunity which was speedily accepted.

“She hasn't laid off our case at all, has she?” Ryuji grumbled. “I knew this would happen...”

“You think it's about those requests she asked you about yesterday?” Ann wondered.

Akira shrugged, finished the last of his food and told them he'd tell them anything important afterwards in the chat.

* * *

Niijima was already waiting for him, looking ever the picture of the impeccable council president. Especially next to him, arriving in a creased uniform covered in cat hairs. The perpetrator hid in his bag, as always; for all his claims that he wasn't a cat, it didn't stop the near endless amounts of hair that he had shed (and would continue to shed) all over Akira's attic, books, bag and clothes.

”How are you doing?” Niijima courteously greeted him.

Akira wasn't exactly sure what kind of answer she sought. While the friendly concern seemed in no way forced, it was... an odd contrast to two weeks' worth of threats to hand them over to the police.

”Could be worse, I guess,” he said nonchalantly. ”Especially now that nobody in this school is working to have me expelled or arrested for once.”

Really. He hoped that nobody else in the school had it out for them. Maybe then he'd actually get some studying done, and could at least make an attempt at dispelling those rumours of being a cultureless delinquent. Not that he cared, but having his every right answer in class treated with endless wonder was getting old.

She grimaced, clearly not expecting the jab, but before he could wonder if he had offended her she had collected herself.

”I may have been a little harsh” she admitted, before she added, proud as ever: ”But you had no need to worry. You proved yourself to be good people, and I'll be on your side from now on.”

”That's a relief,” Akira said, in his mind warily adding _if true_. Just a few days ago, her conviction had seemed quite different. If her approval of their justice was what dictated her actions, what would happen if she found a reason to change her mind?

”I mean it,” Niijima somberly insisted, as though she had read those thoughts. ”Did you know that the headmaster asked me to investigate you?”

”Investigate _us_?”

”Oh, not your group explicitely,” she specified. ”He wants to find 'The Phantom Thieves' responsible for the calling card.”

He felt stupid for being so surprised by the news. Kamoshida's sudden breakdown must have looked quite suspicious from the outside. Given how particular the headmaster was about the school's reputation – mainly because it affected his own – an investigation was not only to be expected, but a necessity. It was the only tool he had to wield against this unknown power. In short, he had very good reasons for finding the supposed delinquents that might threaten his comfy position in life.

But he had reduced the students, the raison d'etre for his title, and their lives to little more than figures and numbers on a paper that needed to be as impressive as possible to mean anything to him – hence the situation with Kamoshida. Now the threat against him originated from a body of people he knew next to nothing about. So he needed to ask someone else and Niijima wasn't the worst choice available. Even so, it was rather strange that he would entrust such an important task only to a single teenaged girl (albeit one who had, unfortunately, proven herself more than adequate for the task) rather than professionals.

”He wants someone else to find the them for him, is what you mean.”

”Right?” Her relieved answer came much faster and with more force than Akira had anticipated, and it must have shown, because Niijima actually looked a little embarrassed. ”Sorry. I understand that the reputation of Shujin Academy is his responsibility. But his fear of losing face means he'd rather not act at all. He's deluding himself if he thinks I can do the work of the police, if he truly wants to find those responsible...”

”I take it that saying no isn't an option?” Akira asked, already knowing the answer.

”I'm not in a position to argue,” Niijima lamented. ”As... crass as it might sound, my future application to university depends on placating him. I have nothing else to rely on. Not that it excuses anything, but...”

She lowered her voice. ”After- After Takamaki said those things... about Kamoshida, and how I didn't do anything, I started thinking,” Niijima said quietly, pensively. ”I wish I could just pretend it's all over now, that whatever I did doesn't matter. But even if you took to the most extreme measures imaginable to stop him, the evil he did will never be erased. We can only hope that his punishment will be appropriate. And meanwhile, the headmaster himself still closes his eyes to the truth. It's frustrating...”

On one hand, he couldn't blame Ann for questioning Niijima's supposed ignorance of what went on with the teachers, especially considering how she had insinuated that Ann of all people should have done more for Shiho. But maybe Yusuke had a point when he noted that she seemed to be trying to do something. More than the principal, certainly.

Akira wasn't unfamiliar with the concept of having your hand tied by the adults running the game. After all, if he hadn't discovered the Metaverse with Ryuji back then, or met Morgana and learn the secret of changing hearts, nothing may have changed in this school at all. Except that there'd be two students less, missed by nobody – not even those they had wanted to help. Was that what she meant by having no one to rely on?

Maybe there was mutual benefit to be reaped here.

”So we have a common enemy, so to speak?”

The unspoken offer did not go unnoticed. She straightened her posture with a determined expression. ”Like I said, I'm on your side. I have told him that I found no traces of the culprits. And I'll keep doing it for as many times as I have to. He'll receive no meaningful support from me. Maybe he'd do well with a change of heart himself.”

The pointed, passive-aggressive suggestion wasn't something Akira would have expected from the proper student council president. Even Niijima froze for a moment.

”Oh, that was... a joke,” she said with an awkward smile. ”However, speaking of changing hearts, I hope you haven't changed your mind about my proposition from yesterday?”

So Ann had been right.

”Do you have someone in mind?”

”There's a girl. She's been stalking another student, and I've heard she even has a blog with... alarming writings in it. She is very possessive, to the point of threatening physical harm to the object of her affections.”

”That sounds dangerous.”

”Yes. So I expect you to treat this matter appropriately. Her name is Yumeko Mogami; you only need a name, isn't that right?”

For better or worse, Niijima was getting hang of her role quickly, giving orders like it was her job. At least the target was on a much smaller scale this time. Probably just a quick visit to Mementos, but he'd have to check with Morgana.

”I look forward to hearing about your success,” she said. ”Thank you. I wish there was something I could do for you as well, in return...”

She thought hard about it, and Akira politely attempted to decline.

”It's not necessary-”

”No, I simply cannot ask you to work for me and give nothing in return,” she declared assertively. ”...How's your schoolwork coming along? It's embarassing, but... I spend most of my time studying, in order to keep my grades, so maybe I could help you out with that at least? It's always good to have a second opinion, especially someone in your position.”

”What, as the resident delinquent?” Akira replied defensively, a familiar and barely contained frustration welling up.

”As the leader of the Phantom Thieves,” she calmly corrected him.

He cringed; he had jumped to conclusions on that one. But there was something sympathetic in her eyes after the minor outburst.

”I have experience of leadership and managing projects. I'd be happy to share what I know. And I'll make sure my assignments do not impact on your academic performance, naturally.”

He had to admit, it wasn't a bad idea. The rest of the team might not appreciate that he babbled too much about their inner workings to someone who, ultimately, had the power to end them, but that also made it all the more important to keep her appeased. If he spent more time around her, he might figure out more about her true intentions.

”It's a deal, then,” he confirmed.

Niijima nodded, satisfied.

* * *

Sometime in the evening, Akira received a message from Goro, and they agreed they should meet up and head back to Leblanc. Attempts at starting small talk about his day was met with polite but distant deflections. Akira prodded until Goro admitted he hadn't done much. He didn't have to be a master reader to notice the frustration between the lines.

A pleasant surprise awaited them back at the café; Akira was ashamed to admit that he had already forgotten about his plans to get Goro something more comfortable to sleep on, but Sojiro had taken care of the problem in their absence and left an old but fully functional futon on the floor by the bed.

“It's just an old spare, but it should work out for a few days,” the old man said, sounding a little softer than he usually did, and while Akira obviously was grateful for the effort he had put in for one of his friends, he also had to resist the urge to cringe at the words “a few days”. It wasn't like they had made any progress since last night regarding, well, pretty much anything. Now that he wasn't dragged down by the feelings of physical exhaustion that a visit to Mementos usually entailed or mentally drained by the sheer emotional intensity of last night, he was acutely aware of their need to act and draw up some kind of plan.

If Goro felt the same anxiousness he was doing an excellent job of hiding it all while drawing attention away from Akira.

“I'm sorry, it really wasn't necessary,” he said, bowing deep enough to elicit a light snort from Sojiro.

“It's no problem, so don't worry about it. Do tell me if you need anything else, okay?”

“Of course,” Goro said, smiling, and Akira didn't believe a word.

Sojiro, however, did and told them that he'd be closing for the night, leaving the two of them (and Morgana) alone.

“Well, that was nice of him,” Akira said, testing out the waters.

Goro hummed quietly and sat down on the couch. The smile had thinned considerably, and he was still staring at the space by the stairs going down to the café.

“This was a stupid idea,” he muttered.

Akira frowned. Of course their current arrangement made him uncomfortable, though it mainly regarded the secrecy that made the affair a lot more suspicious than it had to. Sure, as his legal guardian Sojiro had been adamant that Akira stayed out of trouble and making friends with a teen with a background in the mafia was a bit counterproductive to that end, but he had also treated Akira a lot better than most, his status considered. In fact, he had a feeling that beneath his rough exterior, at least part of that gruffness originated in some odd way of warning him, to protect him from further repercussions. While Akira would never agree with the principle of it, he still appreciated the sentiment. Allies were hard to come by.

They didn't need to make it any harder.

“Morgana, could you please go down and check that Soijro's left?”

The cat huffed (“Why don't you do it yourself?”) but obediently trotted down the stairs, tail held high.

“He's nicer than he wants to admit,” Akira insisted, returning to the topic, and let out a short laugh. “He's like you in that way.”

Goro snorted.

“Regardless of the accuracy of that statement, it doesn't inspire much confidence to begin with.”

Morgana returned and informed them that Sojiro indeed had closed for the day and returned to his house. The relief that came with the ability to speak freely was short-lived, however, and gave way to guilt. Sojiro was reasonable, yes, but he definitely wouldn't take well to finding out that they had intentionally lied to him.

“He's not heartless, but we need to be the ones to tell him,” Akira said, more seriously. “Before he starts suspecting it on his own.”

“And what if you're wrong?” Goro shot back. “He might be obligated to take care of you, but you can't promise me anything on his behalf. I have no choice but to trust you!”

“I'm not doing this to screw you over,” Akira said with growing frustration. “All I'm saying is that he'll know _something_ , eventually. Would you prefer he misunderstands?”

“Then go tell him,” Goro half snapped. “If you place so much so much trust in his decision, why haven't you done so already?”

Akira inhaled sharply, but the question hit him like a punch in the gut. He wanted to tell Goro that he respected his decision, no matter how destructive it was. That he didn't have the right to decide for him. That he didn't want to go behind his back the way they were going behind Sojiro's.

But all he really wanted was for the damn idiot to go along with his plan already, because he didn't have the courage to see it through on his own, for that tiny, one in a million chance he was wrong.

“Maybe I should simply leave, before it becomes a problem,” Goro said, standing up demonstratively, though he made no move towards the exit or even his things. Akira suddenly realized that he had made no attempt to unpack so far, his bag and suitcase lying neatly where he had left them yesterday. “I meant what I said. It's not my intention, nor my desire, to stay any longer than necessary. Give me a few days, I'll think of something before he can give you hell about it.”

Yes, because his stubbornness was all about altruism and thinking about what was best for Akira.

“And go where?” Akira asked tiredly, wondering how often they'd be repeating this very discussion. In the end, his frustration wasn't born so much out of Goro's character as from worry for what would happen and where he'd end up if they couldn't fix it. “You don't even have to be there. I'll do it. And as soon as it's over, I'll help you however you like to make sure you can move out on your own, okay?”

Goro hesitated, then shook his head. “And what could someone like you do?”

“You'd be surprised. I have interesting friends, someone must know something.”

A deep breath. “ _Why_ -”

Even though Goro interrupted himself after that single word, Akira found himself struggling not to flinch from the sheer resentment of it. He was simultaneously curious and terrified to find out how that sentence would have continued, but instead the boy leaned back against the couch with an apologetic expression. “Never mind. I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I'm sure you're doing what you think is best.”

He smiled cautiously. And that was it. Nothing more. No promise that he'd think about it, or a concession that Akira might have a point. But it wasn't like he could force him to adapt his view, even though it would have made things so much easier.

Akira bit his tongue instead of replying. After their discussion in Mementos, he had been sure that Goro would find himself at ease in his new life. Now, he felt like they were making no progress at all.

“We'll be going into Mementos tomorrow,” he said instead when the silence became stifling. It wasn't news, he had already announced it over the group chat as soon as he left the student council room, but he needed to change the subject. And Goro had always seemed fond of Metaverse work. “Niijima's orders. Well, request, but refusing might be a bad idea in the long run.”

“It's not like I didn't warn you,” Goro remarked, leaning back against the couch. “Nobody willingly gives up that power. We're just waiting to be exposed if we go on like this...”

It took Akira all his self-control not to show just how annoyed he was by all that paranoia.

“Nobody's 'waiting' for anything. I don't suppose you have any suggestions what we should do?”

“I don't know,” Goro replied quietly, tiredly. “I really don't...”

* * *

Now that he wasn't completely exhausted from the stress of almost dying and spilling (almost) his entire life story in one go, Goro found it a lot harder to sleep in this place. His time in the orphanages had left him with an uncanny ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime, but even that was not enough when the noise wasn't caused by unruly children but instead originated from inside his own head.

Akira was becoming restless. No doubt he was growing increasingly vexed with Goro's presence, even though he was much too kind to ever say such a thing out loud. He wasn't taking well to Goro's insisting that he needed just a few more days, acting like _he_ was the unreasonable one when he needed to use his time as efficiently as he could before everything came to a screeching end. An end that Akira had no reservations in accelerating. Goro had no idea how long his silence would hold, and that only added to the pile of stress he already struggled to keep under control.

Since the first time he approached him that day on Central Street, with too much information and too little common sense, Goro had sensed that there was something unusual about Akira. Something that Goro had been looking for in everyone he encountered, only to be repeatedly let down while sinking further and further. The reason was simple – everyone looked after themselves, which in practice meant doing as you were told, with your head down while hoping those with more ambitions went after someone else next. Even Goro had fallen into that slump, all the energy that should have gone into rebelling and raging against the world being funneled into surviving, without rest.

But not Akira. And in him, Goro finally recognized something he had almost lost in the struggle. When everyone else would have apologized and bowed for their own mistreatment, Akira got angry, the one sane person in a world of actors who had forgotten their real faces.

Goro had forgotten how to get outraged at the injustice that struck others, but the he did know resentment.

In a way, he supposed that their meeting only confirmed _why_ that was the way of the world. Standing up against those above you was hard, and it had taken supernatural powers for Goro to get anywhere at all. Nobody could blame him for not taking that into his calculation. But that left him with a completely new problem, one that was more complicated than anything he had faced before.

And that problem was also called Akira.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that the same fierceness that had been Goro's salvation had become a hindrance once it turned against him, turning into a stubborn need to involve himself in his life, constantly. With anyone else, Goro would have made up a few lies and been on his way before he could get too close, but he had been cornered and Akira knew too much. Which led to his current predicament.

Goro was trapped. Despite his best efforts, he had nowhere else to go, and the boy knew it. He actively and unashamedly exploited it to tie Goro to this place, and it infuriated him. Even if the boy's ulterior motives were as innocent as he said, he was using his position to tell Goro what to do, claiming he knew best and that Goro should submit to his judgment. Meanwhile, Loki was prickling beneath his skin like a particularly self-deprecating onset of pins and needles, mocking him about the irony of awakening the old rebellion, only to admit himself into yet another prison.

And still, despite knowing better, Goro hesitated.

Akira had been more... accepting, more permissive than anyone had ever been towards him. Even if he assumed that the boy was genuine in his sentiment, it only left him with more questions. What was he supposed to do, when he wanted both to wring out every last drop he could out of that trust and turn it into something more useful before it could be allowed to dry up, but also to give in, to finally allow himself that connection that wasn't exactly what he wanted but close enough to be a decent replacement?

The truth was, sometimes he didn't even want to break free, and the thought terrified him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By now I have simply accepted that I'm a more slow-paced writer than I imagined. I initially expected this experiment to reach about 40k, but the draft is already past that. 
> 
> I skimped a little on the proofreading today, sorry about that. My English is decent, maybe a little unimaginative, but I tend to find all sorts of weirdness should I space out in the process. Like almost making Loki Scottish. Now excuse me while I wander off and imagine Goro with a lovely Scottish accent.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking "I'll get this done next week" for almost a month now. Meanwhile, the chapter grew from 7k to 12k, forced me to reconsider (and revise) the plot... twice, and I still need to revise some parts whenever I can find the time.
> 
> I'm officially giving up all pretences of being able to stick to a schedule. The plotting of the next parts (Futaba and Okumura) has always been a bit more vague than the others so I'll probably write even slower than usual... Cheers to anyone still hanging around though!

Their meet-up and subsequent trip into Mementos was the first time that all Phantom Thieves assembled since their study session at Leblanc. Ryuji's impatient expression broke into a grin as he noticed Akira's approach, and the ensuing greeting was loud enough to snap Yusuke out of his people watching.

Meanwhile, Ann was trying to get into Goro's personal space, and succeeding.While Akira couldn't make out the exact words over the distance, the rising cadence implied questions, and Goro's replies were too short to satisfy the blonde's curiosity. (Akira knew. Call it personal experience.)

On one hand, there was a certain satisfaction (schadenfreude, almost) in watching Goro suffer the consequences of his own stubborn silence. Despite his indifferent manner, Akira highly doubted that he was enjoying the interrogation, if the last few days were anything to go by. But so far, only Akira had had to deal with her questions. It was exhausting, not to mention uncomfortable, to constantly have to consider your words and knowingly withold information when all she wanted to do was help.

Yes, the situation definitely spoke more to Ann's virtues than to any of theirs.

On the other hand, nothing had seemingly changed even now: Goro really _was_ back to his old, pleasant self, acting as though the last few days had never even happened. Akira experienced a brief but persistent sense of déjà vu. He entertained the thought of accidentally having stepped into the past somewhere along the route, like he and Ryuji had stumbled into the Metaverse. If a physical manifestation of the human subconscious was a thing, then maybe time travel-

”He really is serious about not telling them,” Morgana murmured next to his ear with obvious dislike.

Akira hummed in response. Though the cat hardly had anything to offer in informational value, the validation felt nice.

Presumably prompted by his lack of action, Morgana continued, expectantly:

”You think we should do it?”

It wasn't the first time the idea crossed Akira's mind. He was used to keeping secrets, and if his teammates preferred to talk their troubles out one on one, rather than sharing it with the group, it was fine. He could respect that. But this... was different.

The rest of his teammates – they came to him because because there was an obstacle they didn't know how to overcome on their own.

Goro didn't want solutions. Only more silence.

And that... was what he was doing even now, wasn't it? He wasn't solving anything, or even attempting to, he was simply shutting up and silencing everybody else too. Without even knowing it he had torn an invisible rift in their team (or perhaps he did, and didn't care). On one side, there was Akira, Morgana and Goro; meanwhile Ann, Ryuji and Yusuke were stuck on the other side in a bubble of ignorance through no fault of their own.

When Goro joined them, they had asked him to share some basics about himself, but they had never _required_ full honesty. Akira didn't blame him for not wanting to share everything (because neither did they) – but it hadn't merited outright lying, something Goro seemed much too at ease with doing. And upholding the charade felt an awful lot like lying too. Did Goro really think they could continue like this forever? Would he demand they stopped meeting at Leblanc, in case they found out where he lived these days? And all for such a meaningless reward...

It was unfair – not just to Akira, but to the team as well. They were in this together. How could he justify that one of them was acting on his own agenda, and with Akira's tacit permission at that?

(No, not permission – _participation_. He was an accomplice now.)

Except Goro had implied in not so subtle terms that once the word was out, he'd be too. The boy was of course responsible for his own decisions, even if Akira thought they were stupid. But he had a nagging feeling that allowing him to do something reckless was going to gnaw at his conscience for a long while. A better solution was somewhere out there, he only needed to convince him...

”I don't think we can do that,” Akira finally replied. It didn't feel particularly good, but he reluctantly accepted the situation for now. A necessary evil.

Morgana inhaled in a manner that signalled incoming protests.

”Can't do what?” Ryuji cheerfully interrupted them, having picked up only the last part of their conversation. And beneath that curiosity was optimism and a genuine, unwavering belief in that there was nothing in the world that could hold them back. It reminded Akira of what he admired in his friend, which only made the need to lie feel that much more prominent. It tasted like plastic. Cheap, temporary, something built to be consumed and thrown away rather than last.

”Morgana demands I buy him expensive sushi,” Akira said.

Well. It wasn't even that unrealistic. He was technically lying, but the subject matter was so petty and meaningless in the long run, it didn't mean anything. Or so he told himself.

He gave the cat in his bag a hard glare, reminding him that this was no place to continue that particular discourse. Morgana glared back. Whether it was because he was unhappy with the course of action or for being made the scapegoat, it was hard to tell. Maybe both. But he didn't argue.

”Hey, that's a good idea!” Ann chirped. ”Sushi! How about we celebrate by going out for sushi?”

She turned to Goro, excitedly looking for approval. Yusuke agreed in his place, his interest piqued with the prospects of food, and even Morgana seemed pleased with the sudden turn his martyrdom had taken.

Akira tried to ignore the pleasant feeling of getting away.

* * *

Mementos went much as one would expect. They fought their way through the floors, found the Shadow they were looking for, (forcefully) persuaded the girl to give up her creepy ways and decided to call it a day. Morgana was a little disappointed, his eyes on the massive door that lead even further down and it was _open_ , but Akira assured him they'd return for further exploration soon. To his relief, there were no protests, and they begun their ascent towards ground level.

Akira had been the designated driver of the Morgana mobile since the beginning. The van was roomy, with enough space that everyone else could crowd in the back seats, leaving Akira alone in the front. (Well, not alone exactly, technically there was Morgana who could communicate through the speakers, but Morgana was... sort of everywhere, too.) The separation was hardly a cause of discomfort (he needed to keep an eye on the tracks so he was only ever half-engaged in the talk anyway), but today, he was almost grateful for the metaphorical and literal distance. It gave him a reason not to speak until they had left the Metaverse and found themselves doing their goodbyes at the station.

”We still need to set a date for the sushi!” Ann reminded them.

”Oh, that,” Goro said, and for the first time that day, his tone was dipped into something else. Something unfortunately familiar. ”Can I take a rain check on that? I'm afraid recent developments have left me rather busy.”

The others saw none of his deceptive truth, naturally.

”Ah, of course!” Ann said understandingly, attributing it to familiar but incorrect causes.

Yes, the last few days had been overwhelming to say the least, but they also didn't know that because of it, Goro had the most free time of them all. It was almost funny, in an ironic way. To Akira, his reluctance could be nothing but deliberate avoidance.

Akira had been keeping an eye on Goro in the Metaverse. Just to see if there was something he had missed before, now that he knew what he was looking at, and he came up with nothing. Either Goro was one hell of an actor, able to keep bantering and showing off even as they were surrounded by a host of angry Shadows, or Phantom Thief business was something he genuinely enjoyed.

It really was like looking at two different faces, none less convincing than the other. If Goro couldn't be honest with the others, why should Akira presume he was being treated any differently? Yet even so there must be _something_ about the situation that the boy enjoyed, because why else bother sticking around?

”You don't think you could spare a moment in that _busy schedule_ of yours?”

The question came out less pointedly than Akira expected, which was good, because it gave Goro less to work with. In the end, he could do what he wanted, but Akira at least could choose not to like it.

”Can you?” Goro deflected his question. ”After all, I understand that you have quite the social network to attend to in this city already.”

It was conspicuously defensive reply to so innocuous a question. And maybe it was merely hopeful thinking of Akira's part, but the others seemed seemed to catch on as well.

Ann laughed nervously. ”Well, that's true, but Akira always has time for us, right?”

”Of course,” he replied, but there was no need.

”Akira always puts the Phantom Thieves first,” Morgana claimed loudly, staring at Goro.

The unspoken accusation could hardly have gone unnoticed.

”Yeah, we didn't make him our leader for no reason,” Ryuji agreed. ”Maybe you haven't noticed, but he's always there when we need him.”

Another momentary lapsus. Goro's eyes narrowed, barely noticeably, before he smoothened his expression out into a sheepish smile. ”I apologise, it wasn't my intention to offend.”

He hesitated a moment, before admitting: ”I've had a lot to think about recently.”

And that, Akira presumed, was as close to the truth as they would get.

* * *

The group finally dispersed once Goro turned down Ann's invitation to go have crepes sometime (because sweets could apparently solve any problem). Walking away with Goro and Morgana only intensified the feeling of an invisible divide in the group. Akira should say something, call him out on the futility and thoughtlessness of his plan, but how did you bring up something like that?

”You should keep an eye on the girl,” Goro said, as though the atmosphere had gone completely over his head. ”As soon as the change manifests, you tell Niijima. We can't afford to keep her waiting.”

”That's the plan,” Akira said, wondering if Goro really thought he had forgotten or if he was trying to make a point.

Goro nodded. He turned his head and stared mindlessly as nothing but walls passed them by outside the train. The commute passed in relative silence, until they arrived in Yongen Jaya. With something akin to alarm, Akira realised that they didn't have much time until they were back in the café under Sojiro's observant eyes. Sure, they should get some privacy towards the evening at least, but if he wanted to address today's happenings, he should pobably do so before they arrived at their destination.

The streets were much less crowded here, nor did anyone seem particularly interested in two school boys walking by through the narrow alleys, but he still threw a glance at the few strangers passing them in the street before asking in a lower than usual voice:

”Listen, about today. I get that it's difficult, but don't you think the others should know what's really going on?”

Goro sighed. Something shifted in his expression, and while he wasn't visibly annoyed, the _sprezzatura_ fell away, revealing the strain behind his seemingly effortless smile.

”Why? Does it bother you?”

”Yes!” Morgana answered in his place, loudly.

Akira wondered why everyone seemed hell-bent on making this so difficult.

”All I'm saying is, it's going to get more awkward the longer we wait, and they'll start to wonder why you kept it from them.”

”Are you always this eager to expose the secrets of others?” Goro asked pointedly.

”This isn't _secrets._ ” Morgana once more spoke up before Akira could, and the weight in his bag shifted as the cat stood up on two legs, peering over his shoulder. His distaste was apparent even though Akira couldn't see his face. ”It's deception. How are we supposed to work as a team if we can't trust each other?”

Morgana was, despite his childish way to go about it, absolutely right. Akira couldn't claim that it was the act of lying that bothered him – after all, they were Phantom Thieves, their entire existance depending on unknown identities – as much as the idea of lying to _his friends_. And Morgana, for better or worse, was much less hesitant in voicing that opinion.

”Don't bring the Phantom Thieves into this,” Goro snapped. ”My personal feelings – and yours – are irrelevant. I can be professional.”

”I don't doubt that,” Akira begun, much more magnanimously than he had thought himself capable of. But even that wasn't enough for Goro.

”So stop telling me what to do.”

”I'm not.”

”Listen.” After his initial outburst, Goro hesitated. And in that imperfection, the unpracticed, was the only indication of honesty that Akira might trust. ”I... understand that you're trying. And I... I'm grateful for that. Sincerely. I need to make an effort as well. Just a couple of days, it's all I ask.”

”Why?”

”Of course, if that's too long for you...”

Something dark dwelled at the bottom of his crimson eyes as he fixated his gaze on Akira, ignoring the question. ”If that's too long, I could leave. Right now.”

There it was again. _Do as I say, or my mistakes will be on your conscience_. It was none of his responsibility, Akira knew this, and yet...

”You _know_ that's not what I want,” he replied as calmly as he could.

”Then help me.”

Oh, if only Akira could, but Goro himself was the main obstacle in his way, and he was too stubborn, too convinced he was _right_ , to see it.

”You're acting like those are your _only_ choices,” he said carefully.

Goro said nothing, only hastened his pace so that he walked a few steps before him.

”They're not stupid, you know,” Akira warned him. “Do you honestly think you can fool them?”

Too late. They rached the café, and Goro already had one hand resting against the door.

”We should return to your guardian, before he gets suspicious.”

”Coming home a few minutes later than usual isn't going to tip him off to anything. He's not my _warden_ -”

Goro pushed open the door, and his protests fell on deaf ears.

* * *

The next morning, Goro returned late in the evening, much later than usually. Late enough to make Akira worry that maybe this time, he had decided to disappear as promised. His baggage was still dwelling in a dusty corner, but, well – there hadn't been much in there to begin with, had it?

It was with a mixture of relief and annoyance that Akira let Goro in about an hour later. Even Sojiro had left.

”You know, we need to-”

”I know what you're thinking,” Goro interrupted.

”Oh, do you?” Akira said. In that case, he should just get it over with, because God forbid there be any effort or regard on Goro's part. ”I just don't see what you think you're gaining from this.”

Goro muttered something, so low that Akira couldn't hear what it was except that it must have been a single word. His next words resembled an order rather than a request.

”Then leave it be. You don't _need_ to help me, I never asked for it. Maybe this isn't working out.”

And behind it lurked that damned, unspoken offer to _be gone_ , to remove the quandary from Akira's responsibility entirely – as though that was a legitimate solution. The worst thing was, he fully believed him, and he didn't know what to say in order not to set him off.

So in the end, he said nothing.

* * *

Goro was winning.

It may not have looked that way. Almost a week had passed since he agreed to temporarily move into the attic. He had made absolutely no progress figuring out what to do to get his life back on track, when he should have been long gone by now. Instead, he was still sipping coffee at the counter of Leblanc in the mornings and promising himself that _today_ was the day he'd achieve something.

No, his victory was of a different kind.

After his and Akira's impasse at the beginning of the week, he had worried about the reliability of his roommate's silence, considering the fact that he so clearly had the upper hand and his utter conviction that his proposed solution was the correct one. But it didn't take him long to discover that Akira had a weakness that Goro didn't. As soon as Goro insinuated that he'd take his things and walk out, the other boy would withdraw from battle, perhaps not without resistance but ultimately ceasing his suggestions.

It was a simple way to shut down resistance, and Goro made careful use of his new weapon whenever the situation threatened to get out of hand. Soon, the dread that Akira's obstinate voice had instilled in him shrunk to an insignificant level, driven away by his newly-discovered sense of control. Akira himself grew quieter, and hadn't even brought up the matter at all last night.

He may have held all the good cards, but ultimately Goro had proven himself his better. Even if it didn't help him in the long run, it stopped the situation at the café from becoming a problem while he concentrated on other matters.

This instant win-card came with a major flaw, however, a weakness that Goro couldn't afford to succumb to. Despite knowing that he was doing what was necessary, it actually made him feel... bad. Not in the moral sense, just... like he was slowly getting sick, from a poison of his own making. The price of freedom was the strength required to stand alone and watch as he slowly tore up whatever trust they had built up so far.

(It wasn't like he hadn't done similar things before. But this was different. Had it not been doomed to failure, he might even have-)

Then there was the doubt. All it took was for Akira to call his bluff properly, just once, and Goro would be forced to admit defeat or actually make good on his threat and leave. So why was he holding back? Did he really care where Goro ended up?

(There was a twisted enjoyment in pretending, and in particular among Akira's friends. Yes, it reminded Goro of what he couldn't have – so in a way, he could have his cake and eat it, too. Or at least it had been like that, before Akira found out.)

Why did _Goro_ care about the reason? Why was he still _here_?

”Trouble?”

Goro flinched as a voice disrupted his ruminations. By the time he looked up to the sight of the elderly bartender peering at him concernedly, he was alreading smiling.

”Sorry, I easily get lost in thought,” he explained, aiming for a sheepish look. For all the time he had spent gazing mindlessly into his coffee he hadn't actually registered anything, and he subtly lowered his gaze again to gauge how long it would take to finish the drink inconspicuously and get out.

Sakura snorted.

”I've noticed. Got a lot to think about?”

Goro weighed his words very carefully. He couldn't simply tell the man that everything was fine, because Goro was still intruding on his hospitality. Admittedly, the man had stayed true to his word and never even once asked Goro to leave, or even implied as much. But nothing in the world was free, and Goro was paying for his stay with knowledge to satisfy the man's neverending curiosity; a curiosity which he feared was tied to those neverending allusions that he was being abused and needed to be looked out for.

”I'm just a kid,” Goro finally replied with a light shrug. ”Who doesn't?”

It was a tricky balance. He needed to give enough to “compensate” for his lodging and justify his stay, but not so much that he felt inclined to investigate further or, God forbid, try to ”help”.

(Akira was doing quite enough on that front, thank you very much.)

Pulling the victim card was a very recent strategy, and also one that made him oddly uncomfortable. It was counterintuitive; generally you'd want to cultivate an image of strength, not vulnerability. Maybe it was his years in the Mafia speaking. But he could adapt.

The charade made him vaguely nauseous. Somewhere deep down, buried with the last remnants of his decency, he recognised that what he was doing was pretty disgusting. Akira must have realised too, which would explain his distance, even if he wouldn't act on it. Once Sakura became privy to their arrangement, however...

”Shouldn't you be off by now?” Sakura asked, making a vague movement towards the clock on the wall.

”Huh?”

Startled back into reality, he forget the cup of coffee still between his hands. Rocked by the sudden movement, it fell on its side and what was left of its content washed over the counter like a tiny, dark wave. Before his eyes, it reached the edge and started dripping down to the floor, while he could do nothing but blink in confusion until reality hit him.

 _Fuck_.

”I- I'm so sorry,” Goro stammered, looking around for anything he could clean up the mess with. ”I wasn't- I didn't mean to do that-”

Worthless. All worthless. While he had worried about Akira getting him kicked out, he should have paid more attention to himself. After all, Goro had got himself kicked out of places plenty of times, all on his own.

”No, don't worry, I'll take care of it,” Sakura insisted. ”You shouldn't be late for your lessons.”

”I-”

On one hand, he wanted nothing more than to escape the prison that was the café. Away from the eyes that were constantly on him, watching his every move even though they didn't know it yet. On the other, he needed to fix it, make up for it somehow, before-

”It's my job to clean up this place, you know,” Sakura said, with more emphasis. ”And yours to care for your education.”

Except he couldn't even do that.

”I-I'll do that.” Goro tried to ignore the dread pooling in his stomach, and hoped that his smile looked less shaky than it felt. ”I'm sorry...”

For once, he actually felt like the criminal he was when he scurried outside.

* * *

”Kurusu-kun. I expected to see you around.”

Was that why Niijima was standing outside the student council room? Akira looked demonstratively at the mass of students making their way past them. The last lesson of the day was over, and while most of the teenagers attempted to escape their daytime prison as soon as they could, there were still plenty of people with extracurricular activities, with clubs and sport practice to attend, meaning there were still plenty of ears around to hear things they were better off not knowing.

A few days had passed since their visit to Mementos. With some assistance from Mishima, who was always willing to dig into Shujin gossip, they had confirmed that the change of heart they had been asked for had indeed occured. The stalker girl had apologised to her victim. What followed from there... well, that was up to her, wasn't it? Akira couldn't say what the right thing to do was, but nevertheless hoped she'd find out, now that her head had cleared.

More importantly, it should keep Niijima content for now.

”We did what you asked for.”

The vague message, which meant nothing to the outsiders yet left nothing ambiguous, satisfied the President, and she nodded.

”Yes, I heard about that.” Well of course she had. ”You have my sincerest thanks. I hope it didn't cause you undue trouble.”

The truth was, she had caused them quite a lot of trouble for a while now, including the run-in with a real life mafia boss. Even the Mementos trip on her behalf had (admittedly through no fault of her own) exacerbated the tension in their group.

”I mean, you did it much faster than the last one,” she continued, seeking out his gaze more actively. ”I presume that there's a difference in the... difficulty, considering she's only a...?”

”Ah, yeah, it's actually hard to explain...”

He rubbed his neck, wondering exactly what she wanted to hear. There was no point in going into detail and explain the differences between Palaces and Mementos, and how they related to each other. And definitely not in the middle of Shujin.

Eventually, she gave up on fishing for information. She nodded towards the door.

”Actually, could I ask you to come inside for a moment? It's nothing serious, just a... check up, of sorts.”

Akira nodded, wondering exactly what she meant. Did she want a more detailed report? Information on their availability? Maybe she even had another target lined up for them, or an entire list of them...

They went inside. She sat down on one of the chairs, and gestured for Akira to do the same.

“How are you doing?” Niijima asked with the professional concern that Akira had come to associate with her.

“Fine.”

“I hear that you're still struggling with your reputation,” she continued, as though that was a normal way to start a conversation with someone you barely knew. So it wasn't just about small talk, then. “I fear rumors like that never go away completely. I know it must be hard...”

He shrugged. “I suppose. I don't really pay attention to it.”

The truth was, he had gotten used to it. Of course it was never pleasant, that people still after months seemed to expect him to go off if they looked at him in the wrong way. But he had friends, proper friends who had seen past all that, and he could make do with that.

“You're so carefree,” Niijima stated wistfully, then shook her head. “I... transferred halfway through my first year, too. People don't forget that soon. And then, when I worked hard and devoted myself to my studies, the others presumed I had been... _sucking up_ to the teachers, as they put it.”

“I didn't know that,” Akira said with honest surprise. “And they're being quite unfair, too, considering how much you've done for them.”

He caught the suspicion in her eyes as she scrutinized him, looking for any sign of sarcasm, before concluding that he had been sincere.

“Well, you'd know, wouldn't you?” she simply said. “Though my circumstances were... less extreme than yours, I suppose.”

She went quiet, and Akira realized he had no idea what he was doing here.

”Was there anything else you wanted?”

”I don't have any new request for you, if that's what you're wondering,” she replied, all business again.

”That's good. No bullies left, then?” he joked.

”I assure you there's no shortage of bullies in this world, and you'd do well to remember that,” Niijima said sharply. She sighed. ”Even so, there are still things I need to... ascertain, before I can ask for your intervention. I'll contact you when I know, okay?”

”Of course,” Akira replied, hiding his relief.

”Sorry, I just wanted to check. I won't keep you any longer.”

She nodded dismissively, and he stood up, ready to leave and report to the others that they were in the clear. In particular Goro, with all his paranoia, would be-

A sudden thought struck Akira. He wasn't sure the others would appreciate it – Niijima knew too much as it was, and they shouldn't give her more information about them. But she had more revelant experience than any of his friends, and since she already knew their greatest secret...

Before he could contemplate it any further (and start doubting himself) he turned back. Niijima caught his movement, and let out a puzzled noise.

”Kurusu-kun?”

”I had a question, that's all,” he explained, carefully considering his wording. He had done that a lot recently. ”You told me that you have seen your share of leadership duties, right?”

If anyone could help him right now, it had to be her. In the Metaverse, perhaps due to how well they had functioned a s a group so far, being the leader felt natural, like something that didn't require much effort... and watching Niijima really reinforced the impression. He was just winging it, in a stark contrast to her deliberate and uncompromising manner. She wasn't as much reacting to the situation as she was already executing a plan. And she made it look so easy. Just point at what you wanted to be done with a stern look, then watch everyone fall over themselves in an attempt to do as they were told.

Meanwhile, Akira couldn't even figure out where to point.

”That's right,” Niijima said, and she quickly seemed to understand where it was going. ”Is there something troubling you?”

”Have you ever had a situation where someone in the group doesn't... work very well with the others?”

He heard a hiss from his bag (of course, Morgana was still there even when he couldn't talk), and leaned back so that his chair scraped against the floor and covered the noise.

She shrugged.

”That sounds like normal groupwork. There's always a slacker who doesn't care, forcing everyone else to work harder.”

Akira shook his head. ”It's not like that, though. He's contributing, that's not the problem, but he'd rather... run his own race, I think.”

”It's Sakamoto, isn't it?” Niijima asked flatly.

”...What?”

Akira flinched at the unexpected conclusion. His first thought was that Niijima didn't really know the students after all, if she thought that description was about Ryuji of all people. Sure, he had his small disputes with Morgana (and recently, Goro) but Akira had known few people in his life who could match him in loyalty and the sheer work he had mustered for their team so far. Not to mention that he was the only of them who had a background in an _actual_ team, disbanded as it may have been for the unfairest of reasons. The one who even when running alone could see the team aspect of it.

On the other hand, he had (unintentionally) used that silly running metaphor. And it wasn't like anyone else in the school knew better (the words _track traitor_ coming to him like an unwelcome shadow), nor was he the most... enthusiastic student. You could almost understand the train of thought she must have followed, not that it made it any less untrue.

But even so, he couldn't help but notice that Niijima didn't seem particularly... _surprised_ by his reaction, even as it became clear that she was mistaken.

”You gain numbers quickly,” she said absently, and before Akira had time to process what she was hinting at, she had turned her full, undisputable attention back towards him.

”In most cases, that would be sufficient,” she said with a frown, which curled into a wry smile. ”But you're not the usual bunch of rowdy students, are you?”

He suddenly recalled that he was openly indulging Niijima, the person who in no unclear terms had threatened to hand them over to the police, in the doings of the Phantom Thieves. Who could still have them expelled, arrested, gods knew what at a moment's notice. Who was catching up with the gaps in her knowledge alarmingly quickly.

Maybe this had been a bad idea. Morgana would no doubt give him an earful, and he probably deserved it.

Niijima sighed.

”I understand your delicate position, and I can't offer you advice for your particular situation. But I'll tell you this. People will always seek to question and undermine your authority and your leadership, because that's the most convenient for them. But that's what leadership is all about. You must never hesitate to act for the better of the group, and if your judgements tell you so, the final decision will always be yours. That's your right.”

* * *

_We need to talk_.

The ominous message had showed up on Goro's phone, Akira's name helpfully supplied by the app, with no further explanation. Presumably because it wasn't necessary. Had it been about the Phantom Thieves, he would have sent it to the group chat, and there would have been dozens of message with zero informational value so that the others could declare how much they looked forward to it. Instead it had been sent to Goro privately.

There was only one thing Kurusu could talk about these days, and Goro was already not looking forward to it. He had stalled for an hour already, claiming to be further away from the cafe than he was in reality, but knowing Kurusu there was no escape, and he had to face it eventually.

He leaned backwards against the wall of the train, enjoying the last few moments of quiet he'd get this evening. The vehicle shook beneath him, the space was impossibly cramped as always, but even so it was relaxing, in that anonymous way where you might as well not exist. There was no one to notice or even look at the lone teenager, dressed in a stolen uniform and with no books to weigh him down, on his way to a borrowed home. Just one out of hundreds with an unsatisfactory, unremarkable routines to adhere to.

Akira was already waiting for him outside Leblanc. Curiously, Morgana was not, judging by the deflated look of his bag. Had Akira sent him away, in anticipation of something, or had the cat finally tired of his presence?

“Hello. Sorry I'm late.”

Of course Akira saw past the pleasantries, but it did force him to initiate.

“At least you came. Thanks.”

Goro scoffed. “It's not like I have a choice.”

Akira opened his mouth, and closed it again.

Instead, he turned around and pushed the door open.

“We're back,” he absently announced as they entered the cafe. Probably busy rehearsing whatever sermon he had prepared for this special occasion.

Sakura didn't reply, but Akira must have been too focused to notice. He walked past the counter without as much as a glance in his direction. It was the only thing that assured Goro that none of this was planned from his side.

Because Goro _did_ look at the bartender, and the serious frown on his face was enough to make him stop dead. The eye contact told Goro everything he didn't want to know.

“Kid.”

Even Akira had to react to the sharp tone, and stopped with a questioning expression.

“Sit down, both of you,” Sakura ordered them and indicated the closest booth. While the two of them did as they were told, Sakura flipped the sign and closed the door, before joining them. Half sitting, half leaning against one of the stools he shook his head disappointedly.

“Let's not beat around the bush, because I think we all know what needs to be discussed. Akechi, I called your school today.”

Spoken with all the authority and righteousness of an adult about to set him right, to tell him exactly where he had gone wrong. It was only years of feigning complacency that allowed Goro to remain calm even as the fragile house of cards that he had made his home came falling down around him. There really was no doubt about what was about to happen.

He wished he had never told Sakura the name of the school, even though he knew that naming a completely different school would have been of little help. There was no name that could have protected his lies. But if Sakura had called _them_ , then not only did he know that Goro was not what he pretended to be, but he'd know _everything_...

“There is a very good explanation,” Akira interjected.

Goro didn't even care. Whatever stance he chose to take, it didn't matter.

Sakura let out a grunt that was half offended, half exasperated.

“So tell me! Because right now, I' don't think I can trust anything that comes out of either of you.”

If Goro wanted to salvage the situation, he had to defend himself. He needed to open his mouth and spew out lies until something stuck. Painfully acquired experience had taught him that by the time your mistakes were exposed, you could either lay down and take it, or you had to lie more convincingly than they could accuse you.

But for once, his ability to sweet-talk adults abandoned him. Instead, he was paralyzed by the bitter, terrifying feeling of having his true identity exposed, laid bare behind all of his carefully constructed lies. Because that was all he could do. Lie, and distract them from the truth, because once that was out, everything was lost. Nobody wanted to see that, that was why he had struggled so much to keep up pretenses.

The old man sighed, frustrated. “I called your school, Akechi, because I was worried, but they told me you were expelled over a year ago for dealing drugs from school! Just what have you been doing since? I doubt you've been back to school, or you wouldn't have lied to me in the first place. Now that I think about, you appeared on the same day as that mafia boss's arrest. The one that confessed to scams related to drugs.”

He turned to Akira with a serious and disappointed expression. “How did the two of you meet? Do you understand that your probation-”

“It was never about the drugs,” Akira said, and though his voice was soft it was also incredibly bold. “Goro never did that. The proof they had was bullshit, and they were looking for a reason to kick him out.”

Akira... was defending him. Parroting the very words Goro had thrown at him, without a sliver of doubt that he might have been exaggerating or outright lying to save his own skin. Even though he knew that associating with him might bring him down, he still defended him. A tiny part of Goro might have wanted to punch him for that, because Akira was a stubborn oaf who kept putting his nose where it shouldn't be; it was bound to get him into trouble yet, and no matter how much Goro nagged, Akira never seemed to understand how screwed he'd be. But somehow, it didn't. It never did, and the universe looked out for him still, _indulged_ him. That, too, was infuriating.

But still. Nobody else had done that for _him_...

“Akira and I never had that kind of relationship,” Goro explained, addressing the matter that Akira had somehow forgotten in his hurry to defend him. “He never got involved with the mafia-” technically true, albeit not for a lack of trying, “- and he never, _ever_ attempted to contact me for anything illegal.” (There were no laws against stealing hearts... probably.) “He tried to convince me to get out, really.”

The way Sakura seemed to relax a little brought relief to Goro as well. Why would he stand down so easily, if his faith in Akira was as poor as he had given the impression of?

Though even if it wasn't, it wouldn't extend to Goro.

“You realize you just admitted to doing exactly that,” Sakura said gravely.

This was exactly why never tried to be honest around people. How was this ever supposed to get him something? The truth was an unpleasant thing, a weapon, and whenever it reared its ugly head around Goro, he never felt better knowing it. Would _anybody_ lie and pretend and cheat if there was no advantage to it?

No matter how unfair it was, how much it made him want to rage and scream, he needed to keep that under wraps until later. Rage was a privilege, as was indignation, and it wasn't one Goro had ever been allowed to partake in.

Loki must be ashamed. So much for standing up for himself. It was all over anyway. Maybe just this once he could allow himself to throw away that ridiculous facade-

“Would you prefer that he end up in the streets?” Akira asked, and there was an aggressiveness to his words that made Goro feel uneasy. He needed to tone it down, or they'd be in trouble just for his attitude...

“Of course I don't!” Sakura snapped.

“We met because I was in a place I shouldn't be and _he_ tried and tell _me_ to get out first! You really shouldn't-”

Akira obstinately chattered on. For some reason, he stood firm while Goro flinched.

It was all a farce, anyway. He was fighting a losing battle, and the only thing he could do was to get out before the mousetrap crushed him completely.

“Well then.” Goro stood up. “I realize I must be quite the bother, and-”

“No,” Akira warned him.

“- and if you give me a few minutes, I'll get my stuff and leave.”

There was a reason he had barely touched his things since he arrived, as much as the thought had tempted him.

But that was what everyone expected. He was unwanted, after all, not hated. It was enough that he got out of sight, and he'd be left alone. After that, he'd have to try again. He'd figure something out. He could stop by Mementos, kill something so Loki would stop whining (more like seething) and then-

Hands clamped around his wrist, and he froze for a second before he realized it was just Akira.

“Hey. Sit down, will you? I'll get some coffee for everyone,” he offered, his voice deceivingly calm as he practically pushed Goro back towards the seat of the booth, not relenting until he was seated again.

“Sure, go ahead,” Sakura said, and though his gaze wandered between the two of them, it had lost most of the hostility he had displayed earlier. “But just the stuff I taught you, you hear that? No way I'm wasting the better beans at your skill level.”

“You wound me,” Akira said flatly, and Sojiro snorted, unimpressed.

Goro... wanted to be like that, too. He wanted it so much it hurt. He too wanted to be able to say and do whatever he felt like before having to stop and think what it would do to him. Somehow, being mere inches away from the edge that Goro had stumbled over long ago didn't faze Akira one bit. Somehow, he wasn't chained down by his circumstances, by what he were or, more importantly, what people thought him to be...

Why couldn't Goro be like that? What was so different?

When Sakura pointedly cleared his throat, he forced himself to look up.

“Uh...” The man exhaled heavily and rubbed his neck with an awkward expression. “I think I may have jumped to conclusions. And even after this, what I said back then... still applies. I won't throw you out. But you need to tell me everything, or I can't help you.”

 _I'm not sure anyone can_ , Goro thought. The sudden scowl on Sakura's face revealed that either Goro was a very loud thinker, or he'd spoken out aloud.

“Let me be the judge of that,” he said tiredly, not even scolding him.

For the second time in his life, Goro found himself telling someone the exact series of events that had led him to his current predicament. To Sakura's credit, he never once interrupted, not to question him, not to tell him he had been an idiot, not even to comment on Akira's mediocre coffee once he rejoined them at the table.

The more cynical part of him reminded him that screwing himself any further was probably impossible. And Loki... was Loki, being far too furious and impractical for anyone's good.

“Jesus Christ,” Sakura exclaimed once Goro got all the way to the end (obviously having left out the exact circumstances behind Kaneshiro's fall and his acquaintance with Akira). The man shook his head in disbelief. “I'm sorry, but what exactly were you two gonna do about _that_ on your own?”

“We were going to tell you,” Akira said, wincing at how insincere the cliché sounded. “We just... needed some time to figure out how to do it.”

 _We_. As though Goro hadn't opposed him tooth and nail.

“Next time, just tell me immediately,” Sakura said, exasperated. “Actually, never mind that, there will be no next time! If there's something you kids can't handle, _please_ ask an adult. And if you really feel like you can't talk to _me_ , then at least someone...”

Akira, of course, said nothing. The hypocrite. Goro's secrets were fair game, but his own, his double life as a Phantom Thief, that was too much. Strangely enough, he didn't feel nearly as upset about it as he thought he would.

Sakura glanced at the clock and sighed.

“Listen, I need to go. But we're not done with this, and I fear we won't be in a _long_ time.”

“We're not going anywhere,” Akira dutifully replied.

Sakura turned to Goro.

“I'm afraid I don't have much else to offer but the attic, but as long as that's enough and you two don't try to kill each other over the space, you can stay, alright?”

Goro looked a little broken, so Akira nudged him in the side to remind him that this was a good time to say yes.

“Yes, thank you...” he murmured.

After a moment of hesitance, Sakura stood up.

“Good night, then.”

There was a hurried pace to his gait as he left. The bell rang, the door slammed shut, and then everything was quiet once more.

“Well, that went reasonably well,” Akira remarked.

* * *

The fresh air outside was exactly what Sojiro needed to clear his head a little. He had absolutely no idea where Akira kept finding these kids. Never mind the stray cat, now he was bringing home stray orphans to fill the attic with. For no other reason than the sheer unfairness of it all, and despite Sojiro's best efforts to convince him otherwise.

What did it matter in the big run? You couldn't help everyone, the world wouldn't allow you to, and to put yourself on fire just to provide some light in a messed up world wasn't just futile, it was wasteful.

“Would you look at that, Wakaba...”

He stopped outside his house, his hand hovering above the door handle. A house that was far too quiet to house one person, never mind two.

“He's not even trying, and I swear he's doing better than I.”

Sojiro wasn't a very superstitious man, but the situation was becoming contrived enough that he was starting to suspect divine interference anyway. Of the malicious kind, or the sort that enjoyed laughing at others' misfortune. Why else would the universe send _another_ orphaned kid his way? He couldn't even take care of the one that mattered. Were the gods playing with him, just to laugh and watch him squirm – or even offering some twisted second chance to make up for his ongoing failure?

It truly was remarkable just how _similar_ the two of them were. Really, what were the odds? It was almost painful the way he could tell that Akechi wasn't lying; not because Akira was backing him up, but because he recognized that same hopeless look that she had, despite the boy's efforts to hide it. It was a miracle he hadn't broken yet.

(Or maybe not everyone broke the same way.)

The worst part of it was, even if he wanted to, he couldn't help Akechi properly anyway. Oh, he could offer him some lodgings for a while, or give him advice on how to find work, but he doubted that would get him far in a world that was so harsh against his kind. The matter was much too big for a civilian to handle; if the boy were to have any hope of finishing school they'd have to get social services involved. And if he did that, he'd endanger his daughter. There was no way they'd let him host another kid when he had turned the first one from an openly abused but seemingly functioning girl into a wreck and a shut-in, no matter how much safer he knew she was. And no matter how sympathetic he might feel about the boy, there was no way he was giving up Futaba. He'd give up on the entire world before he gave up on her.

Well. There's was no point in dwelling outside ruminating over things like that. With the slightest hint of hesitation, he entered his house and affectionately called out:

“I'm back.”

As usually, no one answered.

* * *

Akira's first thought upon realising that Sojiro _knew_ had been an old-fashioned, panicked _well_ _shit_. The second had been ”How do I convince Goro I didn't set this up?” (after all, he had even sent away Morgana to stay with Ann for the night to make sure that the cat, well-intentioned as he may be, didn't accidentally ruin this last-ditch attempt to follow Niijima's advice) though it ultimately turned out to be a non-issue.

Now that it was over, with just the result he had expected (or hoped) for, a major burden had been removed from his shoulders. Goro still looked a little out of it, lying on his back on the borrowed futon; Akira, meanwhile, felt like he could have danced right there and then.

They could do this. It wasn't going to be easy, but it wasn't impossible either. Last week had felt next to hopeless at times, and yet here they were.

”You know, I think the flower shop in the shopping mall at the underground mall is hiring,” Akira helpfully offered.

Goro let out of a low hum, but didn't otherwise react.

”The owner's really nice,” he added.

”Oh? You know them, then?”

”Well, not exactly. I've picked up some plant food there. I'm trying to keep that plant over there alive.” (He lazily gestured in its direction, but his audience seemed distracted.) ”Sojiro claims it's a lost cause, but he can't be bothered to spend the effort on throwing it out.”

”Ah, yes, it does look surprisingly healthy for growing in a dusty corner,” Goro remarked. ”A testimony to your resilience, I'd say.”

”More like the plant's, wouldn't you think?”

The other boy laughed. ”How very humble of you. In the end, the plant doesn't do anything but exist. It thrives because of your efforts, as much as you'll allow it; the moment you stop caring for it, it will wither and die. It must feel rewarding.”

The remark was deceivingly similar to a compliment, and Akira wondered if he'd be considered rude for not acknowledging it or at least make an attempt to downplay Goro's unproportional praise. But there was something about the way he said it...

”I guess I never thought about it.”

”It suits you,” Goro said, and chuckled. ”You sure it shouldn't be you working there, rather than someone like me?”

Akira had considered it, but he was busy enough with his shifts at the convenience store. And if he had read Lala's hints correctly during the evenings he had spent with Ohya at Crossroads, once he mentioned that he had some bartending experience, he would only become busier.

Besides, he knew when to fold it. If Goro turned up before the owner with even half of his usual charisma turned on, he'd be hired on the spot.

The attic was quiet, and Akira found himself missing Morgana's presence. Anyone who would actually remind him that they were in a better position than before. Instead, the silence was slowly gnawing at his relief.

“Well?”

When he finally spoke up, Goro sounded defyingly expectant and it confused Akira because he had no idea what he was supposed to reply.

“... _Well_ what?”

“Aren't you going to say _Told you_? You were right, it seems...”

His slowed down his speech, as though it was a matter that needed to be explained to children. Akira had expected his reaction to be something less tense, given that the situation he had worried about all week had finally turned out well.

“It's not a contest.”

Goro scoffed.

“Of course it isn't...” he replied, and cryptically shut up.

Something within Akira snapped. After a week of cold silence, he knew that tone all too well. Anything he attempted to say would be shut down and removed from discussion. Like nothing had changed.

He had spent almost a week playing along with Goro's strange, paranoid demands, with no benefits whatsoever other than the boy's peace of mind. All while he couldn't be bothered even to try to compromise. And after all of that, after Sojiro's promise, he still seemed to prefer petulant disregard of his own well-being as a more reasonable alternative to simply trusting them. Just a tiny little bit. Was it really that much to ask?

“No. We're _not_ doing this.”

The boy on the floor flinched, and the startled expression soon became guarded.

“You,” Akira said, as a week of unspoken frustration bubbled to the surface, “have been an absolute _dick_ recently. I tolerated it, because you seemed miserable and to be fair, you did lose everything. But the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced you're doing it to yourself. And after that, to everyone else.”

When Goro looked like he wanted to protest, Akira held up his hand. “No, I'm not done yet. What do you want? Do you _want_ a place to stay? Do you _want_ friends, to steal hearts with us? Or do you simply want to be right, no matter what you need to do to yourself? Do you _want_ everyone to be miserable because you feel like shit?”

”What the hell would you know?” Goro snapped and sat up.

Just the fact that he still put up a fight when everything had gone just as they hoped for was worrying, to say the least. Goro spent a ridiculous amount of time guarding his secrets. If he was still like this... did that mean there were even more, things that even Akira didn't know of?

Goro had truly made an art form out of economically spending the truth. For every layer he shed, he only did so to distract them from what was still hidden, and he was dressed up in more metaphorical layers than Ann's attempt to defend her nude body from Yusuke's brush.

“I don't know anything, because you refuse to tell me!”

”Maybe you don't deserve it.”

Akira snorted.

”Okay, maybe I don't. All I'm asking you _not to lie_ to everyone's face when they're trying to help. Is it really that hard?”

Goro laughed derisively. ”You want me to tell the truth to a bunch of kids who couldn't even hide from the council president at their school?”

”We're doing our best; we're not perfect,” Akira admitted. ”It was unfortunate, but you know what? I don't think a single one of us regrets how it turned out. And even you have to admit that without it, you'd still be running errands for the mafia.”

”It got me _here_!”

The exclamation was so agitated, so dramatic that he _had_ to laugh, he just couldn't help it. ”Well, I know which of the two I'd prefer.”

Goro glared at him, though by the time he spoke his voice was pure ice.

”Does it offend you so that I don't _want_ your help? Would you prefer that your little circle of friends are made up from obedient little chickens that lose their heads when you're not there to shepherd them?”

Now _that_ struck Akira about as gently a a slap in the face. The ease with which Goro spoke those words, as though he actually meant them-

Because he didn't, right? He hadn't spend all that time in the Metaverse, laughing with them, and not listening to a word that was being said around him. It was the first thing he had thrown out that actually baffled, even outraged him, not so much on his own behalf as that of the others'.

”No, I'm offended by your blatant disrespect for people trying their best, our _friends_. As though their attempts to actually _do_ something are somehow less than your childish insistance to do everything on your own.”

”I will not be leashed by the likes of you,” Goro declared, and his crimson eyes narrowed, fixating on Akira with proud defiance.

” _Nobody_ 's trying to do that!”

”...Is that what you think?”

”Is that what _you_ think?” Akira shot back in exasperation.

Goro didn't have an immediate answer to that, just a slow exhale, and Akira tried to process the image as he knew it. The thing was, Goro's reasoning made sort of sense, if he cocked his head and locked at it slightly sideways. Akira vaguely recognised that feeling of trying to turn around, only to find your hands tied (a flash of velvet blue passed through), and after the years of service to Kaneshiro, Goro had as good reasons to rebel as any of them.

What baffled him was that he made _him_ sound like a subjugating party.

”Well, this has been interesting.” Goro was a little subdued compared to his earlier outburst, but still eyes him with suspicion. ”But I'm not like you. You're just deluding yourself.”

”Hello, do I get an opinion?” Akira exclaimed. ”Just _why_ are you so convinced that nobody is ever going to like you?”

For the fraction of a second, the other boy hesitated. Then, as though it never happened, he scowled, walked over to the table. He reached for his briefcase, put it on the ground and knelt in front of it. He practically tore out the contents, dumping neatly organised clothes alongside the rest of his belongings unceremoniously on the dirty floor. Once it was completely empty, he started fiddling with a hidden compartment on the side. Akira, struck by a dreadful sense of déjà vu, suddenly realised exactly what he was doing. A few seconds later, Goro had produced his gun, the one he had brought into Mementos when he first accompanied them, holding it carefully in his hand on display with an emotionless expression.

Despite having arrived at the right conclusion in advance, Akira felt unnerved by the sight. It wasn't like he expected Goro to shoot his head off when he turned his back; it wasn't an issue of _safety_. Despite their relatively short acquaintance, Akira trusted him the way he trusted the rest of his teammates. It was more about what the weapon represented – the resolve to actually hurt (or maim, or kill) someone on purpose, in a reality where you couldn't simply pop a few painkillers to patch someone up after a misfire. And Goro must have acquired it long before knowing of the Metaverse's existence. Maybe through some of the less savory contacts he had encountered in the mafia, or maybe it had been given to him.

But more important than the “how” was the “why” Akira was starting to see what Goro was trying to get at. In truth, he couldn't think of a way to reconcile that kind of mindset with their goals as Phantom Thieves. The best case scenario was that it had been intended as a defensive measure in a predative and abusive environment that Akira couldn't even begin to understand. To him, even after having seen Kaneshiro's mayhem first hand, the mafia was something that was supposed belong to the world of fiction, and he had to remind himself that Goro had survived more than a year in those circumstances.

Worst case...

“You brought it here?”

Maybe Akira was naive to have expected it to stay in the past that he supposedly had left behind.

“I couldn't exactly leave it, could I? It would be rather irresponsible.”

The way Goro smiled placatingly wasn't nearly as disarming as he must have imagined. Akira found it hard to see what difference one more illegal weapon in a shady organization would make.

They really couldn't keep it. Akira was on probation, and something like this had to be against the rules. Even so, should it be discovered, Sojiro would have a meltdown of epic proportions (one from which his trust would never recover, Akira suspected) long before anyone would have a reason to look through his stuff in search for incriminating possessions.

“Go ahead,” Goro said forcefully when he received no response. “Ask me.”

Akira's stomach turned, though he refused to jump to conclusions. After all, Goro had seemed rather mournful when he had noticed their reactions, and displayed a certain amount of self awareness regarding his attitude. Not to mention that while he had said some mildly disturbing things while he lashed out in Mementos, there was one important redeeming point that had stuck out.

“You didn't say anything about having killed someone.”

“I haven't,” Goro said, but the reply was too terse for Akira's liking. And his tone had shifted. Gone was the humility and good-natured willingness to conform.

“Did you really think I told you the truth, back them? Someone like _you_?”

The contempt was palpable.

“Do you know why I came to you in the guise of another _helpless victim_ of Kaneshiro's? Because I figured that was the only way I'd get close enough to get any use of you lot. Are you naive enough to think they just had me sitting on some vaguely defined sideline, doing nothing for my upkeep? And who would seriously have helped a _criminal_ with anything? The moment I turn out to be anything but the sad, exploited little victim, once you realize you aren't dealing with your sanctimonious charity any more, you're returning me just as quickly as the others. But-”

He swallowed, and his tone became a little mellower, albeit forcedly so. “But you did get me out of whatever debt repayment plan that piece of shit had in mind. So you can have this one takeback. Just this once. You're fucking welcome. I-”

His voice broke, and rather than making good on his threat to leave he collapsed back on the floor with his back against the table.

Like he always did, time after time, never any closer to actually leaving. Only there seemed to be no manipulation intended this time. Just an offer, and someone too tired – or scared – to act on it on his own. Maybe for that one in a million chance he might be wrong.

It was so _hard_ to tell what Goro was trying to do. Implying that he had needed to _use_ them while clearly enjoying their company. Constantly talk about leaving but never sneaking away even when Akira was elsewhere and powerless to stop him. In fact, he had resorted to threats (to himself only) in order to keep Akira acquiescent.

What was he missing?

“That's not it,” Akira said.

Goro rolled his eyes.

“Spare me your bullshit. What else should I tell you? _No, I never killed anyone and all the people I victimized are actually fine, thanks to your_ saving _them_!?”

“It's not about your past,” Akira said, a little more insistingly.

“It doesn't matter that I never killed someone. I contributed to things far worse than that.”

“You already told me what you did, and I still asked you to come, didn't I? I haven't changed my mind.”

“Then why are you _asking_? _What do you want me to say_!?”

But... he had offered an answer, had he not? He still expected them to withdraw that offer for some reason. He had shown him the gun, but he had never used it for anything.

Maybe the problem wasn't so much his past as the future.

“What _I_ want to say is, you don't need a weapon anymore,” Akira said plainly. “Do you have it because you wanted to hurt someone? Is that why you kept it? Because you can do _much_ worse now. And I, _we_ will help you.”

“Ah-!”

That caught his attention. Whatever Goro had prepared for next he instantly forgot; agape, he stared at Akira with a wary but incredulous expression, and you could practically see him thinking as he struggled to process what he had been told.

”Are you listening to yourself?” he asked.

Akira nodded. Goro blinked, and then... he chuckled, nervously, as though he hadn't decided whether it was an apropriate reaction or not.

”Are you seriously... telling me I should be dishing out something that, according to your opinion, is _worse than death_ , because that's the decent thing to do?”

”That thing _worse than death_ is something they entirely brough upon themselves,” Akira said in a steady voice, and a familiar, quiet rage, restrained in chains forged in hell itself, was aroused from its slumber. There was something about Goro, more so than his other confidants, that reminded him of that raw energy and fury that had called forth Arsène.

Akira should have known. He knew how easy it was to speak to someone once you told them what they _wanted_ to hear, and Goro, beneath the layers of deception, was furious. Angry enough to get himself an illegal weapon to deal with whomever had wronged him. And unlike the rest of their teammates, there was nothing to hold it back, nothing to appeal to reason.

If Akira wanted to reach him, he needed to get furious, too. It wasn't even difficult. Akira wanted nothing more than to poke the general public until they'd become just as enraged as the two of them, finally spurred into _reacting_ in a prison of indifference. Maybe that was the true purpose of their work.

”If they didn't hurt people, our work would have no effect. And doesn't that fit _your_ morals just fine? Didn't you tell me your victims deserved it, because they were stupid enough to approach Kaneshiro? What's different?”

”...”

Goro shook his head. But the was intrigued, and that reluctant curiosity was enough to make him forget that he had been talking about leave mere minutes ago.

”Do your friends know you're like this?” he asked, with equal parts amusement and fascination. ”How you talk differently, depending on who you're with. Exchanging one mask for another, so that they'll give you what they want?”

Of course he'd know. Ryuji and Ann, even Yusuke, had been angry as well; but they had no reason to hide it away. Goro, meanwhile, had swept himself into all those ridiculous layers, and recognised somebody else doing the same.

”What makes you think this isn't me?”

Goro looked almost pleased.

”Oh, I'm not saying nothing of the sort. I'd call it survival, and you... are a lot better at it that I've been giving you credit for. But, returning to the matter...” He leaned forward, his tone suddenly deceivingly professional. ”If that's the case, then certainly I deserve what I brought upon myself, too?”

Akira sighed, dropped that particular mask in order to bare something that fit better. Finding someone who not only tolerated, but relished in that anger, was refreshing, but it was hardly suited for making proper judgements. Hopefully, Goro would realise that too.

He rubbed his neck, trying to figure out how to word his thoughts. This might be the crucial moment where Goro's aptitude for becoming part of the Phantom Thieves would finally be tested. Not by Akira, who had already made up his mind, but by Goro himself.

”I'm going to tell you what's different. Yes, people do make stupid decisions all the time, and yes, your work for Kaneshiro probably contributed to serious harm. But that doesn't mean anyone _deserves_ abuse, or torture or death. Not for a mistake which they had no way of taking back, or which they were forced into because they had nothing else to turn to. Or because they had no one to stop them or help them out. In the end, we want to _help_ people, who went through the same pain as we did. But we don't get to judge. Let our targets judge themselves. Nothing you can do to them is worse than what they are forced to do to themselves.”

Goro laughed. ”I made choices too, you know.”

”And you told me you hated it. Hell, we _saw_ how they abused you to keep you in line. Judge yourself too, if that makes you more comfortable. Not all of our targets went as far as turning themselves in; some apologised to their victims, or did what they could to make up for their past trasgressions. Should you turn yourself in – or help us doing something decent, now that you're capable of it?”

”And you'd... just let me?”

”Why shouldn't we?” Akira asked. ”Listen. It's not about judging you, though it might have come off that way. I won't ask a single question about that... thing, or whatever you intended to do, as long as it stays in the past. Just tell me if you can do something other than hurt, now that it's over. Get rid of it, and avenge yourself through other means.”

More softly, he added: ”We, as Phantom Thieves... we don't do revenge, but... If there's someone out there who hurt you, and who might hurt others. I mean it. We'll shove them into a living hell of their own making, if only you ask.”

”A living hell...” Goro repeated thoughfully, stroking his chin. Then, just like that, the mask was back in place, and he smiled amiably. Even his voice had taken back that warm quality, which could have been gratefulness or, alternatively, just a really nice way to ask him to leave him alone now that they had discussed the matter. ”I thank you for the offer, Akira, but at the moment, I have nothing to ask for.”

Akira nodded, though he couldn't deny he felt a tiny bit relieved, even knowing that there was the risk that he was still hiding his true intentions. ”The offer stands, should you need it.”

”...Thank you.”

He allowed Goro a moment to let the situation sink in. And himself, for that matter; he wasn't entirely done, however.

He breathed deeply.

”Having said that, I'm starting to see what you meant about being unpleasant back then.”

”I, uh...” Goro subtly scanned him, but when he didn't find anything, he fidgeted nervously. ”I am. Sorry.”

”If you're going to be on the team, you need to stop bullying people,” Akira said seriously, and held up a hand when Goro looked like he wanted to interject. ”It's not a threat! It just makes everyone miserable. You're going to drive them away for real.”

Goro sighed and closed his eyes. ”I know, I know. Sorry.”

Quietly, he added: ”But not you...”

”Come on, I already told you. You're not the only person feeling like shit around here. Just... give me a chance. A real one, this time. And eventually, the others too.”

”I guess that's fair.” He bit his lip. ”It's not like I have anything else I can give...”

”It's not always about that, you know? At least not here,” Akira said. ”Watch my back, I'll watch yours.”

”It's a deal, then,” Goro said lightly.

But despite the levity, Akira finally felt that warm spark of _understanding_ settling into his spine, like he had done with everyone else. He shivered.

Goro didn't notice, and continued.

”Though seeing as I'm the only one who has actual experience of avoiding the law... successfully... you might want some assistance with that.”

Akira groaned, and recalling their early days came with a healthy dose of second hand embarrassment.

”God, you weren't here to see it, but everyone – especially Ann – are horrendous actors. We desperately need someone who can stick to a story without breaking under pressure.”

”...You want a liar,” Goro said dryly.

”A good one, preferably. We recruited you to steal! Don't you dare pull the moral card on me now.”

Goro managed to keep his deadpan expression for about two seconds, before letting out an amused chuckle.

”Very well. Heaven knows you'll need it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So chapter 4 and 5 five were initially supposed to be a single chapter. Yeah, right... 
> 
> I find it interesting and difficult to write Goro (and read others' ideas!) because you see so very little of his true personality in canon. So many of my interpretations are extrapolations of single lines (or even things he doesn't say!). The reason this chapter (remember the last 20k or so were supposed to be a single chapter...) grew out of hand is because I wanted to play around with why canon!Goro would make a rather poor PT, and then move on from that, while also exploring differences in views between Goro and Akira, because I think they see things in a really similar, yet different manner.
> 
> One of the reasons I enjoy writing these stories is because I keep developing and figuring out my own headcanons, so to speak. My outlines are always really vague, but having to write them out properly helps me understand my own ideas properly... if that makes any sense. Really. The last scene was initially something of an afterthought in the outlines ("I need to address the gun from chapter two") and before I knew it, it become more thematically relevant than I had expected, even triggering some rewrites of other scenes. On the other hand, I'm not sure I can write anything without trying to make it thematically relevant, if only subconsciously (the flower shop discussion really WAS supposed to be about flowers and nothing else)...


	6. Chapter 6

Akira didn't think much about the mornings when he woke up and Goro had already left, his futon neatly rolled up and put aside. Goro's early habits were deeper ingrained in him than Akira's need to compete, and he told himself that was fine. So he took his time getting out of bed, replying to the messages that had started to show up in the group chat and getting dressed – well, as much time as Sojiro would allow him before he impatiently ordered him to come downstairs – then strode down the stairs.

Goro seated by the counter with a cup of Sojiro's coffee, however, was a sight he was still growing accustomed to.

”Good morning.”

Though he didn't mind the change. That pleasant smile certainly was a nicer start to the day than Sojiro's surly face. He hadn't noticed before, but the mornings used to be... quiet, once you shut out the monotonous babble originating from the television. Sojiro wasn't the talkative sort, except when he felt the need to tell Akira what to do (then he suddenly had surprisingly much to say), and for obvious reasons he couldn't make much conversation with Morgana before they left the café. Whereas Goro was unaffected by similar cautions and, unlike Sojiro, actually looked mildly pleased to chat these days.

”Good morning. Got any shifts at the shop today?”

”Yeah, though not until five. Have some patience, I'm sure your plant can go without fertilizer a few more hours without wilting.”

A week ago, the hint of irritation would have been enough to make Akira worry for the rest of the day. But a week had passed since Goro agreed he'd stay, and he had yet to show any sign of changing his mind. Hell, he had even unpacked his things! Convincing him to give their team mates a chance had done wonders for his mood, and Akira's along with it.

He wouldn't voice the thought out loud, but he had a feeling that Goro finally letting the others in on his secrets had been just as beneficial, if not more, to him as the others. He hadn't shared all the details he had told Akira, but still more than he had expected, considering the delicacy of the matter.

Being consciously kept out of the loop never felt good – Akira had fully understood their initial disbelief, and part of the blame was indisputably his – but having to keep secrets out a fear of rejection was hardly better. And their friends had obliterated whatever doubts Goro still held with their understanding. Akira had put his expectations _very_ high, and they had met them without a hitch.

Ann in particular had been ready to adopt Goro once she realized how out of options he had been, and now Morgana attempted to talk Akira into kicking _him_ out so he could move in with his crush. He hoped it was only a joke, but it was always difficult to tell with Morgana and his odd conceptions of how the world worked. At least his pouty face was kind of cute.

”Actually, I was thinking about how Ann's going to have a freakout if you bail on the sushi now.”

”Don't worry,” Goro assured him. ”Just text me the time. I assume we're not going anywhere before everyone's classes are over, anyway. Speaking of which-”

”We already talked about it in the chat earlier,” Akira said, confused. ”Didn't you see it?”

He had replied to those messages personally to OK Ann's suggestion that they leave immediately after school. He grabbed his phone to check that he hadn't dreamt the whole thing, and no, everything was still there. This time he did notice that Goro hadn't replied to the exchange. He mustn't have thought much of it at the time, because Goro left conversations on read all the time, but still...

At closer investigation he discovered that according to the application, the messages hadn't even been delivered to him yet, and were still pending for no obvious reason. Had he forgotten to charge it during the night?

”How odd...”

Goro smiled sheepishly.

”Ah, yes, as I was about to tell you...”

He tapped his screen, and a few seconds later, an unknown number showed up in Akira's contacts.

”I had my number changed, just in case,” he explained. ”Considering what I used it for before, one can't be too careful... Could you please delete the old one from the chat and add this one instead?”

”Sure.”

”While you're at it, could you finish your breakfast too?” Sojiro pointedly asked.

Akira sighed, and put away his phone.

* * *

”Everyone! Before we start to eat, I'd like to remind you that this is an occasion to welcome a new member into our gang! We've had a rocky start, but that means it can only get better!”

Ann delivered the short and painfully improvised speech like a toast, somewhat clashing with the informality of the gathering. Goro thanked her with a self-conscious smile and politely urged her to let them eat so that the chef's efforts wouldn't go to waste, and the suggestion met with no opposition.

”I'm really starting to feel that gender imbalance, though,” Akira muttered, noticing how she had ended up seated in the middle of the boys. Did she ever feel lonely in their gang of four boys and a (mostly male) cat?

Ann shot him an amused, if slightly awkward, glance. ”It's not a problem...”

”Ah, I remember discussing this very matter,” Yusuke said, then apologetically added: ”Regretfully, I had all but forgotten about our agreement that I wear a dress.”

”What?” Goro asked flatly, his gaze alternating suspiciously between Yusuke and the rest.

Ryuji grinned. ”Oh, it's a thing everyone does. Initiation, you know. What size are you?”

”That's _totally_ not a thing,” Ann quickly reassured him. ”Besides, I don't see why it's a problem. Girls can be friends with guys too – as long as they aren't Ryuji.”

”Hey!”

”In fact, Goro has agreed to go shopping with me this weekend,” she announced contentedly.

”Yeah, looks like the gender imbalance has been fixed, alright,” Ryuji whispered in Akira's direction. Going by the way Goro's eyes narrowed, Akira hadn't been the only one to hear that, and promptly opted to change the subject.

”This sushi looks delicious. Much better than store-bought.”

”Right?” Ann cheerfully said. ”I've heard good things about this place.”

”I want to try too!” Morgana whined from somewhere by Akira's feet.

The poor cat was stuffed into the bag as usual, since an animal wouldn't be well received in a high-end place like this. Even Akira felt bad about his situation, stuck listening to descriptions of the delicacies he so badly craved, but until they left the restaurant he could do little more than promise that they'd more than make up for it when they selected the pieces they could take home for him afterwards.

”I don't see any prices,” Yusuke anxiously remarked, his attention caught by just about the only thing that could distract him from the food in front of him.

Goro nodded, looking a little uncomfortable himself. Ryuji did not share their concern, and loudly exclaimed:

”No need to think about that today!” He leant back and laughed, carefree as ever. ”Ah, the perks of bein' a Phantom Thief...!”

Time slowed down to a crawl as his words registered. By the time it returned to normal, every single head at the counter was turned in his direction, their expressions containing assorted nuances of alarm and exasperation. To Akira's ever growing horror, even the chef seemed to look at them. Was the entire restaurant staring? He didn't dare to turn around and find out.

Ryuji himself eventually become aware the his slip-up, but it was already too late. It was like a repeat of the Niijima-accident, except much more ridiculous. Any other day, Akira could have lauded his numerous excellent qualities, but for now he _really_ wanted him to think about what he allowed to tumble out that mouth while they were within earshot of strangers.

Curiously, Goro was the only one who wasn't visibly flustered. Akira could have sworn he saw a smirk pass over his lips before he let out a long-suffering sigh. He returned to the sushi, lazily picking at another maki with his chopsticks as though there was nothing unusual about it.

“I don't care what you do in the privacy of your own fantasies, Sakamoto, but could you _please_ not embarrass us in public with your inane dreams of delinquency?”

Even through his confused expression, Ryuji realized he should be offended.

“My _what_!?”

Goro shook his head disapprovingly.

“I know you're a diehard _fan_ of the Phantom Thieves, but I assure you, _pretending_ to be one isn't going to get you any girls. At most, you'll get _arrested_ for your troubles.”

His careful but inconspicuous enunciation made them privy to his intentions, and Ann straightened up, ready to latch onto the save.

“Yeah, you're not impressing anyone, Ryuji,” she said. She still sounded a bit nervous, but Goro seemed content and smiled smugly.

“You're sidin' with him now!?” Ryuji exclaimed. To his credit, he had lowered his voice considerably.

“See? Not even the girls are convinced.”

”It isn't about that at all!”

”Really?” Goro asked sweetly. ”Could have fooled me. Now go back to eating, preferably like a normal law-abiding citizen, and stop acting like an idiot. Or maybe someone like you would actually enjoy the rewards of acting out against society.”

”You'd know, wouldn't you,” Ryuji muttered, but Goro only smiled in reply before moving onto to another piece of sushi.

Akira was relieved to see that the people around them had returned to their own business (if they had cared in the first place...). Yeah, Goro may have been a little harsh, but the situation was de-escalated, and Ryuji needed to learn how to keep his voice down, otherwise the chock and subsequent heart attacks would get them before the police could.

The next minute passed in awkward silence, until Ann hesitantly started blabbering about schoolwork, and shortly afterwards the mood had returned, though perhaps a little more subdued than before.

Crisis averted.

* * *

”I have underestimated you.”

Goro was baiting him, in that vague and mildly infuriating manner that forced Akira to take the initiative. Giving the impression of a compliment, to function like the cheese in a mouse trap before it snapped.

He had a feeling this was about what had happened in the restaurant. Once his part was over, Goro hadn't acknowledged the incident in any way (though he had acted a bit more assertively than usually), and considering his not o cordial relationship with Ryuji, it seemed awfully out of character. The timing fit, too; only minutes had passed since they said goodbye to the others and boarded the train towards Shibuya. It was the first opportunity to speak in semi-privacy since their fellow train riders certainly didn't care about the grievances of a couple of anonymous students. Though if he were realistic, there were few things Goro seemed willing to speak about in larger company, so it was not impossible. But implausible.

”If this is what Sakamoto's usually like, I would have expected half your school to know about your identities, and not just the president of the student council. Is it by any chance a school for the deaf?”

”Don't be snide,” Akira said, and even though he only some half an hour ago had been just as annoyed, a defensive streak flared up. The matter had been dealt with, and there was no reason to dwell on it. ”He gets excited. Don't tell me you don't know what it's like.”

”And yet, I manage to keep my mouth shut.”

”Yeah, because you keep your mouth shut about _everything_ ,” Akira retorted. ”Or did someone sew it shut because' you're insufferable otherwise?”

Goro laughed, taking no offense at the jab. ”It's better than losing my entire head, wouldn't you agree?”

”Listen, I _know_ Ryuji desperately needs an indoor voice, and I'm grateful you managed to salvage the situation. But it's just petty to rub it in.”

”That's what you needed me for, though,” Goro stubbornly insisted. ”I'm a liar, Akira. Your friends are not. And when your future depends on certain things that must remain a secret, it's a recipe for disaster.”

”Oh my, is that _concern_? For _our_ friends?” Akira teased him, feeling just a little pleased at how Goro flinched.

”I wasn't trying to offend,” he finally said. Akira would have believed him, had he been taking about anyone but Ryuji. ”But when someone's as bad an actor as your friends, the easiest way to circumvent that disadvantage is to make them _stop_ acting. Sakamoto is easily provoked, and that anger was more genuine than any excuse he could have provided.”

Was _that_ what he had been doing? Akira mentally rewound to the moment of Ryuji's lapse, re-examining his memory of the scene. So the provokation been intentional then, in order to control the situation? If so, he really had been a step ahead of them after all.

The manipulative nature of his actions bothered him, though. He didn't want to return to the days where Goro felt like he needed to take responsibility for everything on his own and the inevitable consequences.

”You did keep your cool when everybody else was panicking, so kudos for that. But I hope you'll come to trust them eventually. They are relying on you, Goro, and not without reason. If this is going to work, you need to learn to rely on them as well.”

That, surprisingly, shut him up. After his initial, startled reaction, Goro's earlier defensiveness disappeared. Instead, he lowered his gaze to the floor with a familiar thoughtfulness.

”Ha ha...” It was barely a laugh at all; an effort came closer to the truth. Even his wistful smile looked off. ”I've wanted someone to rely on me my entire life. Someone who actually dares to place any kind of expectations on me. I never thought...”

”Believe me, I have nothing but expectations. Very high ones,” Akira assured him, but the words had little effect in the way of comforting. Goro's next words were tentative and lacked his usual assertiveness.

”The truth is...”

He trailed off, and inhaled deeply before he forced himself to continue. ”The truth is, I'm used to looking after myself. But looking after others is much more difficult.”

He laughed nervously. ”I'm scared out of my goddamned mind. Terrified. That one day, somebody else will fuck up and I'll be thrown under the bus. That I'll be distracted because I'm busy babysitting. Or worse-”

The sudden honesty caught Akira unawares. Maybe it showed, because Goro suddenly seemed all too eager to backpedal.

”Actually, sorry, never mind. I talk too much.”

Ignoring the comedy value of that last statement, Akira recognized a certain familiarity in what he said. He knew what it was like to take the fall for someone else's wrongdoings. He would be lying if he said the assault case, as well as the ensuing trial and sentence, hadn't made him consider his stance on mindlessly rushing to the aid of others. He had questioned himself and the world, stuck in a conflict that hadn't been solved until Arsène rose from the depths of his soul to deliver the final verdict.

And that was why he felt it was so important to show Goro how he'd got back up. Part of it was a selfish knee-jerk reaction: it was insulting to see Goro bundle their friends with that sort of people. Like there was no difference between the people that supported him and the adults that had abandoned him. And something sad about the thought that someone so lonely had been conditioned into thinking that he shouldn't try even when it was offered freely.

”If my word holds any worth to you, I know they'll try their hardest to make sure that doesn't happen.”

”The world doesn't care how much you try,” Goro replied, the reply coming out so bitterly that Akira wondered if he was trying to compensate for his earlier vulnerability.

”Then help them, Goro. Cover them when they falter, and they'll do the same. We're all in this, and everyone's just as serious as you are.”

When he didn't look convinced, Akira continued:

”Start small, if that makes you feel better. When it comes to using your Persona, you're anybody's equal, but there's no harm in stepping back and let them take over, once or twice. ”

Goro suddenly flipped back into overly enounced ferociousness. ”I'm not going to slow you down-”

”You're not,” Akira insisted before he could get too far into that thought. ”They have different skills, that are sometimes more apt than ours. Sometimes, letting somebody else take charge is the most reasonable thing to do. Like you did today. Do you trust my judgement, at least?”

They arrived at their destination, and spent the next minutes navigating through the masses that transferred to and from the train. The roaring white noise that resulted from hundreds of voices crashing together and drowning into each other, melting into the groans of trains and metal and the automated announcements, was deafening. Trying to move against that current was a meaningless endeavor, so Akira half expected Goro to use the opportunity to drop the matter. But he must have given it some thought, and his brow was still furrowed in thought when they returned above ground and to more manageable sound levels.

”...You really are something else, you know that? I don't know how you do it, but the way I feel like I can tell you anything... were it anybody else, I'd frightened.”

”I'm a very frightening person,” Akira solemnly declared. ”Ask my classmates if you don't believe me.”

Goro chuckled. ”Oh, I agree. And fortunately for you, they are nowhere near as frightened as they should be.”

He glanced at his phone.

”I need to get going. My shift's in fifteen minutes, and I have to change. See you later.”

”See you.”

”... And thank you.”

Even if he hadn't give a direct answer to his request, Akira felt optimistic. There had been plenty of opportunities for Goro to give in, if he truly believed that going on in his current direction was a lost cause, yet Akira could sense his categorical refusal (or _inability_ ) to give up and admit defeat. 

As he watched Goro's disappearing back, Akira considered visiting one of his contacts since he was already out and about. Morgana, however, who had so far stayed quiet, started making a fuss in the bag, angrily hissing about the sushi he had been denied so long, and Akira amusedly agreed to return home so that he could finally partake of his share. Besides, exams were creeping up faster than he liked. Morgana might look forward to return, but Akira would have little company over the next days outside his textbooks.

Still. Things were really nice at the moment. So nice, that something obviously had to happen so they'd have a new reason to panic, because life was never that kind. But he hoped they could at least have another few weeks of peace before that.

* * *

Inui-sensei's exams were the worst. Akira was one of the last students to stagger out of the classroom, having spent a little too long on the last essay, but he was proud to say that he should have passed without too much drama. As much as he wanted to haul himself over to the arcade and euthanize his poor, overworked brain cells with mindless violence, the only thing that awaited him was an evening in Leblanc cramming more facts for next day's trials.

So of course he found his way blocked by a tall student he didn't recognize.

”Excuse me, would you by any chance be Kurusu-kun?”

Apparently, there were still a few clueless individuals in the school who didn't recognize him after Kamoshida's smearing campaign. Akira quickly eyed the student and wondered if he was a third-year or just in a different class. He soon got his answer as the guy continued: ”President Niijima is looking for you. She's outside the student council room.”

Akira suppressed a sigh, and changed his course towards the stairs.

”I'm sorry to call you in the middle of the exams like this,” Niijima said, shifting guiltily. ”I*ll be brief.”

“I could simply give you my number,” he said jokingly when once the door was shut and they sat alone. “It must be easier than bossing your fellow councilors around.”

He absently wondered whether any of the other members of the council ever used the room, or if Niijima was constantly hogging it for her own purposes. There were certainly perks to being the teacher's pet.

“I wouldn't be... averse to that,” she said. “Can you take it right away?”

Once he had the number saved to his phone, he sent a quick test message to Niijima for confirmation. She nodded approvingly and put it away.

”It's convenient to have a way to contact you directly,” she said. ”I still prefer to do our appointments in person, however. Given the nature of our arrangement, it would be foolish to leave evidence of your activity. I'm sure you understand.”

Akira shrugged. ”It's just a phone.”

Going by the stern glare that Niijima sent in his direction, you could have thought he just confessed to skipping classes. Her mouthed thinned into a disapproving line.

”Surely you're not telling me you've been using a chat to communicate this whole time?” she asked incredulously. ”Isn't it unsafe? Those logs are kept somewhere. If anyone gets hold of that, it's as good as a confession.”

”I doubt anyone would do that,” Akira said. Uneasiness, however, started creeping in on him when he acknowledged that she had a point. He might want to look into it and see if there was any alternatives.

”Seriously.” She bit her lip. ”I'd me more careful if I were you. I let you go. I doubt the police will do you the same favor.”

”But then I wouldn't know you cared,” Akira teased her.

She flinched, but effortlessly composed herself. ”You're useful to me in your own way. I'd gain nothing from your premature arrest. In fact, need I remind you that the headmaster assigned me to investigate you, and that I reported finding nothing. Neither you nor my involvement may be discovered.”

”Have a little faith.”

Though given that she had already managed to catch them, perhaps it was easier said than done. She didn't seem convinced.

”If I didn't know better, I'd think you were making it up as you go... Actually, I don't want to know. Just make sure you don't get caught, okay?”

”I'll do my best. Thief's honor.”

She sighed. “I guess that's as good as it gets. Moving on, there was something else I had in mind.”

Akira hadn't planned on staying long, but keeping Niijima placated took precedence to everything else. Ryuji would forgive him, and if he didn't, Akira simply had to remind him why she had them at their beck and call in the first place. “No problem.”

“There was a favor I was hoping to ask,” she said, though her voice lacked her usual commanding quality. If anything, she sounded nervous.

“Another request?” Akira guessed, though he doubted it. She hadn't made this much ado about it before.

Predictably, she shook her head.

“No, actually it's something... different this time,” she said hesitantly. “A personal matter, unrelated to your role as a Phantom Thief. I need... assistance with something, and I... Well, I actually don't have anyone else I can ask...”

The volume of her voice rapidly decreased to a point where Akira could barely make out what she was saying.

“Well, what is it?”

She made up her mind.

“I need you to be my boyfriend,” she said matter-of-factly, like it had already been decided. After her last, almost inaudible mumble this one seemed loud enough for the entire school to hear if they wanted to.

Akira heard spluttering from his bag, though his own choked _Huh?_ covered for any carelessness on Morgana's part.

“...I'm sorry?” he asked, fishing for confirmation that he had heard correctly.

“Oh. Not for real, of course,” Niijima hurriedly (and embarassedly) added. She took a deep breath. “I have a... friend. She recently got a new boyfriend, and in order to appear credible, I told her I have one as well, and now she's invited me for a... double date?”

“You made up a boyfriend for appearances?” Akira asked, stupefied, barely hearing anything past that part.

He wasn't honestly that surprised that she didn't have a boyfriend; not because he didn't think she could get one (on the contrary, she was pretty and dedicated enough that he could imagine plenty of students falling for her) but rather because she didn't seem like the type to care for that kind of reputation. Grades before everything else, that kind of person.

Not to mention asking a relative stranger to act out her script.

“It's not what it sounds like!” she defended herself, though the way her cheeks slightly reddened seemed to contradict it. “I only said so because I tried to make her open her up about the guy! I have reason to suspect he's trying to scam her.”

Akira still felt like he didn't get it, but the serious way she spoke of it was proof enough that she had deeper intentions. “Scam her?”

“He's a host working in Shinjuku. Older than her, too. I _know_ there's something fishy about him, but I have no evidence. That's why I need to attend this date. Please. I, uh, don't know anyone else I can ask who won't ask questions...”

Or because there was no one else whom she could safely blackmail for as long as she needed.

But despite barely knowing enough about the situation he found himself leaning towards Niijima's side in this. If what she said was true, the possible consequences were too much to ignore. Not to mention, taking care of Tokyo's shady adults was something of an unofficial side gig for him these days.

”I'll do what I can.”

Niijima was visibly relieved.

”Thank you,” she breathed, genuinely grateful. ”I have to admit I'm rather... happy you agreed. I'm not sure what I would have done otherwise.”

”I'm sure someone as resourceful you could have found someone eventually.”

Niijima all of a sudden seemed bothered, looking outright embarrassed.

”I... well, you see... I wasn't quite prepared for how _interested_ Eiko would be, and she wouldn't stop asking questions... And I needed to answer her, or I wouldn't look credible, but I hadn't even thought about half the things she wanted to know, so I... She had me speak at length about this elusive boyfriend and well, the only person I could think about was you, so she already knows what you look like...”

This was getting more bizarre by the minute.

”That's, uh, flattering...?” he offered. Anything to kill the silence that only made things more awkward.

”I didn't mean to!” she exclaimed. ”I'm, uh, not saying there's anything wrong with you, but... I was woefully unprepared for the situation. I'm... the truth is, I'm not nearly as well versed in the matters of love as I'm in academics...”

”So who is this friend of yours?” Akira asked, realizing Niijima had yet to say a word about this friend of hers. She had actually been a lot wordier about the boyfriend.

”Ah, her name is Eiko Takao. She's from this Shujin, too.” She concentrated. ”I can't actually think of anything relevant to say...”

It was a little strange, but then again, Niijima had never given the impression of being the most socially apt person out there.

“Well, let's just hope they won't ask how we met,” Akira said jokingly. “I'm not sure blackmailing counts as meet cute.”

Niijima flinched, and didn't find the reference too amusing. She let out a forced “I suppose” before changing the subject:

“Summer break is almost here. I still have some council business to attend to, but... I'll call Eiko and set up this... date... as soon as possible. I'll contact you once I know.”

“No problem.”

“And I'm serious. Thank you.” She let the declaration hang in the air for increased impact. “I'd offer you some help with your exams at least, but seeing as they're almost over, I doubt there's much I can do...”

Akira groaned. “Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to go home and cram the entire structure of Japanese society into my brain.”

“I think you'll be doing just fine, actually.” The ghost of a smile tugged her lips. “I've seen you in the library, Kurusu-kun, and I've even helped you myself. You probably know a lot more than you think. Take social science, for example. You already _live_ in that society, no need to re-invent it.”

She was right, wasn't she? Ever since the the incident, and even more so after discovering the Metaverse, Akira felt liked he had finally started to notice that world outside. Even though he done little more than hold a sign, the couple of evenings he had spent with Yoshida had convinced him that politics wasn't always the rigid, righteous system his books would have painted it as – it was _human_ , running on conviction and emotion, selfishness and responsibility, just as much as any human being. Yet the way their lessons worked, isolated facts became larger than the world they where supposed to describe.

“I wish school saw it that way,” he said. “Might make the lessons a little more exciting than waiting for the next piece of flying chalk.”

“It doesn't mean studying isn't necessary,” she said sternly. “There's only so much you can discover on your own, and there are no shortcuts to reinforcing the knowledge. But you'll be doing yourself a favor. Information is wasted if you can't make use of it.”

In a way, he thought, her discourse applied to the Metaverse too, didn't it? The amounts they had accidentally aided an enemy because no one paid attention to the nature of the Shadows was frankly embarrassing.

He really would have preferred a Metaverse assignment. Mainly because he wanted to get out of the cycle of sleep and books already.

“Ever the star student, huh? But thanks.”

“Don't let yourself lose focus, Kurusu-kun,” Niijima warned him. “Studies is how people like you and I get ahead in life. Or, rather: without it, we don't. Don't forget that.”

* * *

The days following the end of the exams felt amazing. Justifying himself with the sudden but welcome decrease in pressure, Akira may have stayed in bed longer than usual.

When he heard the doorbell ringing from the café below as he got into his shirt, he did raise an eyebrow. it was much earlier than Goro usually left when he had shifts to cover. Had he known, he might have crawled out of bed a few minutes earlier so he could have said hello.

The sight of Goro behind the counter as he rounded the corner by the stairs was not one he had been expecting, and going by his smugly pleasant grin, the boy knew it.

”Good morning.”

Morgana didn't care much and shot straight for the food that Sojiro had put out for him. It fell to Akira to treat the scene with the appropriate gravity.

”I can't believe it,” he gasped, channeling his inner Yusuke to convey- no, to _become_ the pure essence of betrayal. ”I know Sojiro's been giving me the stink eye for staying out so late, but I didn't think he'd outright _replace_ me.”

Goro's lip curled up barely noticeably, not impressed by his performance. He made a mocking tut noise.

”If you hadn't stayed out so late last night, you would have known,” he replied.

”But you see, there was this girl...” Akira begun explaining.

He had been to Kanda last night. There, he had indeed met a girl – that shogi player from Yusuke's school. After the way they had stumbled through Kaneshiro's Palace, facing ambushes left and right due to their carelessness, Akira had thrown out the idea that they might need some strategy injected into their tactics, and Yusuke had in some roundabout musing mentioned his classmate. While Goro had scoffed at the ideas that abstract skills were so easily transferred, Akira found the idea intriguing enough.

Getting Togo to open up and offer a game had been easier than expected; she had a lonely air to her, and seemed happy enough to find someone who didn't mind her... more eccentric methods of immersion. Of course he hadn't expected to actually win, considering he could only barely recall the rules while she was a pro, but it hadn't stopped him from agreeing to every single rematch in the hopes of maybe lucking out at some point and achieve at least one, narrow victory.

(He didn't, and lost some more.)

Her peculiar habits and immersion really was something else, though.

”Oh, is that what you're going to tell Sakura-san to get back into his good graces?” Goro rolled his eyes. ”...That's not actually a bad plan.”

”Right? It's all true, I swear. Got my ass kicked at shogi all night.”

”Sounds hot,” Goro said with what might be the least amount of interest in recorded history.

Akira winked suggestively, and delved in on his usual plate of curry. So the bell must have been Sojiro leaving, then. He wondered if the old man was secretly pleased to have another youngster to boss around. He could retire and make the two of them do all the work.

”Are you going to open the café today?”

” _Absolutely not_ ,” Goro replied sharply, unexpectedly enough that both Akira and Morgana flinched, then grimaced. ”That is, I believe, a direct quote from Sakura-san. He needed to run a few errands. But he did say I could practice on you eventually.”

”Of course he did.”

”In truth, I suspect I'm here to make sure you don't get any ideas,” Goro continued. ”He doesn't like the way you've been eyeing his Blue Mountain.”

”Well then he shouldn't have told me about it! Geez. You get a criminal record _once_ and everyone expects you to take their stuff.”

He expected a lighthearted quip about his career as a Phanom Thief and how Sojiro inadvertently had been right (albeit for the wrong reasons), but rather than reacting with amusement or mirth, Goro just smiled sardonically.

”That's what you get for being a delinquent. Why should people be nice to you when they can just treat you like dirt and get proven right eventually?”

In spite of his deliberately light tone, it seemed the statement had hit a little too close to home.

The first one to break the silence was Goro, who caught himself and giggled awkwardly, effortlessly redressing himself into his friendly guise though it didn't quite reach the eyes.

”Ha ha. Sorry. I ruined your joke, didn't I? You're so carefree, even about something like this...”

The statement trailed off and seamlessly integrated with the silence once more. After some deliberation, Akira decided to leave him in his thoughts rather than prodding further, and finished the rest of his breakfast in silence.

”We're going to be late if we don't get going,” Morgana eventually piped up. It seemed his role as Akira's conscience only expanded with Sojiro's absence.

Akira glanced at the clock, knew that he was right and offered his bag so that the cat could move into it.

”You're staying here?” he asked Goro, who nodded.

”Sakura-san asked me to help him this morning. It's the least I can do.”

”Don't let him take advantage of you,” Akira warned him. ”If he tries to tell you he's old-”

”I can quite take care of myself. Now get going.”

* * *

Goro looked at the clock once Akira had left. There was still another fifteen minutes before the café was supposed to open, and Sakura had yet to return from his errand. The old bartender had set everything up before he left, so all Goro needed to do was to wait for his return. Easy as pie.

The doorbell chimed. Goro assumed that Akira had forgotten something, but when he looked up he was greeted by the sight of a young but professional-looking woman entering. Akira must have left the door unlocked. He groaned internally, careful not to let any of it show.

He wasn't supposed to interact with the customers yet. But he could hardly turn her away. His only option was to make such a good job of it that Sakura could overlook the incident. How hard could it be? Technically, the work Goro had done for Kaneshiro could have been described as customer service, in the widest sense of the word. Although considering the consequences, perhaps customer _disservice_ was a more apt denomination...

There was clearly room for improvement.

”Uh, I'm sorry, but we're not open yet...” he said with an airy but apologetic smile.

The woman looked sharply at him with rust-colored eyes that could have intimated their victim just as well as Kaneshiro's goons, which was quite impressive considering she must have had less than half of their body mass to back it up with. It didn't make Goro any less wary, but at least he took comfort in the thought that if the situation ever escalated to violence (which was minuscule) he'd come out on top. So he smiled sweetly, unfazed, as he waited for her countermove.

”A part-timer? Can this place even afford it?” she muttered, as though he weren't even there.

”Like I said, we're not due to open for another fifteen minutes,” Goro repeated. ”But if there's anything I can help you with, I will try.”

The woman sighed. ”Sojiro Sakura isn't here, is he?”

”Not in another fifteen minutes, I'm afraid. I'm sure you can wait here until he arrives, though.”

She checked the time impatiently, weighed her options for a second and shook her her head, grey hair cascading around her face.

”I don't have that time.”

She took a small object from her suit jacket and presented it to Goro. A business card. The design was professional but forgettable – the contents must be all the more impressive, then.

He was just supposed to wait and keep the café closed until Sakura returned. How had he ended up in this situation? But it wasn't like he had a choice, so he bowed and thanked her, and he had to admit that it was a certain genuine curiosity that he studied the information.

Sae Niijima. Public prosecutor, working for the SIU.

For a moment, the idea that she might be related to Kaneshiro – and therefore Goro – shot through him, and the adrenaline was already out and pumping by the time he forcefully dismissed the thought. She had explicitly mentioned coming for Sakura, and the way she had looked at him was something he recognized all the well: she wasn't interested in him the slightest. She barely even saw him other than as a means to reach her true goal. A harmless nuisance.

Hoping she hadn't noticed his little lapse, he apologized and produced some comment about how he hadn't known Sakura was expecting such an esteemed guest. She graciously accepted the manufactured compliment.

”Tell your employer I'll be back,” she instructed him. Then muttered, in a voice intended for herself but which Goro could hear clearly in the empty café. ”This is too important a lead to let it slip away...”

Not important enough to wait fifteen minutes, though.

”Don't worry, I'll make sure he knows” Goro said pliantly.

The woman nodded curtly, and left without further acknowledgement. Only once everything was quiet again, when he was sure that she wasn't going to return because of some half-forgotten afterthought, he allowed himself to breathe out. Just in case, he locked the door. The last thing he needed was any more stray visitors when all he was meant to do was watch the café.

The card was still in his hand, and he glanced at the neat text. None of this was his business, but it wasn't like he had anything better to do...

”A prosecutor, huh?”

Just what did she want with Sakura anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the reasons I've been slow is because I've been basically writing two chapters simultaneously, not really sure where the break should come. So mostly confidant stuff in this one. I like taking game mechanics into consideration as I write, though I try not to draw attention to it.
> 
> Also Sae! Needless to say, she'll be affected by the changes in premise. Sometimes I feel this isn't as much an AU as it's a remix, where I amuse myself by seeing how many canon references I can put in a chapter. I do write less canon-compliant stuff too; I hope I get around to posting that some day.
> 
> I would have written more, but it's hours past midnight and my cat is looking judgingly at me.


End file.
